


Deceit? Who’s She? Never Heard of Her

by magic_but_its_green



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Deceit Sanders Angst, Deceit Sanders Has a Different Name, Deceit Sanders-centric, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Kinda, M/M, Morally Neutral Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Morally Neutral Logic | Logan Sanders, Morally Neutral Morality | Patton Sanders, Morally neutral Creativity | Roman “Princey” Sanders, Slow Burn, Swearing, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, at first, it’ll make sense later, they become sympathetic later though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 41,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22502578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magic_but_its_green/pseuds/magic_but_its_green
Summary: We’re all familiar with what could happen if Thomas ignores his snake-like side, but what if he uses said side too much?What if the other sides do too, until there’s nothing left? Until Deceit is lost in the lies, and he’s stolen by the subconscious.Warnings will be before each chapter, but I’ll edit tags for anything bad.Inspired by @bakakaz ‘s copycat post on Instagram
Relationships: Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Deceit Sanders & Everyone, Deceit Sanders & Thomas Sanders
Comments: 308
Kudos: 424





	1. Guilty As Charged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for some transphobia, though it’s not in much detail.

A two-headed snake slithered across his many arms. Their scales glimmered elegantly in the dimly-lit room, as Deceit rubbed any scales he could. 

He was, to put it lightly, _bored._ Regardless if he defended himself or stayed quiet, whether Thomas knew of his existence or not, Deceit was pushed to the side. Maybe he was a last-resort for Thomas, maybe an inconsiderable decision. Despite being Thomas’ self-preservation, created to help Thomas _survive,_ his protectee hardly cared. He just saw the scales, the title “deceit”, and labeled him as a “dark side”. Incapable of change. A slimy snake trying to create a bad person out of Thomas. 

Then again, could he really blame Thomas for how he felt? Patton and Virgil have so much control on his feelings, two sides that _loathe_ Deceit. He couldn’t imagine that they made him sound _great_ to Thomas. Logan might’ve tolerated him, at some point. The trial definitely screwed that up though, Deceit couldn’t help but wonder if he should’ve kept him around _longer._ Maybe Logan could’ve made Thomas see reason. Roman might like Deceit as an acting partner, or an ego boost, but not as a friend. He wasn’t exactly welcomed with his “creepy snake face”. Remus, on the other hand... Well, he wasn’t quiet about his opinions. He genuinely seemed to like Deceit, or at least tolerate him. If he were to be honest (which felt like a chore), Remus was probably the only side that Deceit would willingly be with, outside of helping Thomas even with _Remus’_ brand of creativity.

The Duke was the only reason Deceit hadn’t ducked out, minus the whole “being self-preservation” thing. 

As much as he’d _love_ to wallow in self-pity, Deceit knew that he had a job to do, unwanted or not. Gently lowering his darling snake (kindly named Henry and Edward, no relation to Jekyll and Hyde at _all_ ) onto his main two arms, he stored the other two pairs away as he placed them into their vivarium. The two heads looked at him, before slithering across some rocks. They never failed to amuse him. 

Neither did Thomas, apparently, as Deceit felt himself being summoned. That was... odd, to say the least. Maybe Thomas mixed up his side’s names, surely he wouldn’t _willingly_ summon him. 

Or maybe he would, as the tug returned franticly. Adjusting his caplet and hat, Deceit appeared at the foot of Thomas’s bed. The only real person in the room looked _exhausted,_ as if Thomas was willing to let the room vore him (curse Remus, he’s ruining Deceit’s vocabulary). 

“If you truly need a side to brood with Thomas, I’m clearly the _best_ option.” Forced apathy coated his worried voice. 

He seemed to just realize that Deceit was there, as he observed the snake side for a moment. He seemed... anxious. How wasn’t Virgil here, with how Thomas was behaving?

“Deceit— I...” he took a breath, making Deceit’s worry grow. “I need a convincing lie. I accidentally hinted at someone being non-binary, but their family won’t accept them, and—”

Ah, the guilt was eating Thomas alive. Swiftly, he took Thomas’ phone from his shaky hands. The most recent group chat seemed to be Thomas’ dilema. The conversation looked pleasant enough, until someone questioned Thomas’ constant usage of they/them pronouns, followed by a few transphobic jokes from other group chat members. 

Thomas didn’t seem to want the phone back, but he still radiated guilt. “I didn’t mean to be so obvious, but I hate misgendering, and I thought I was being discrete, but—”

“You need to relax, Thomas.” He tried to seem capable of fixing this, since he wasn’t going to screw up a time where _Thomas_ needed _him._ Removing his gloves, he typed a believable response, or at least what looked believable to him. Barely proof-reading it, he sent it before Thomas could question him. 

Thomas read over the text once Deceit was done, almost shocked in the lie itself. “Your excuse was that pronouns hardly mean much?” 

“It’s better than transphobes knowing that we support anyone who’s trans, unless you want them to know their child is non-binary. I’m sure they’d be _ecstatic_ about it.”

The conflicted look Thomas had was nearly enough to make Deceit regret his lie, until Thomas looked at him with some inscrutable look. “Can you... stay? At least until their family stops texting me?”

Surprise took over his face for a moment, keeping him standing still. Thomas wanted Deceit, the embodiment of Eve’s alluring snake, to _stay?_ He would’ve thought it was a lie, except he couldn’t taste that deceptive sweetness anywhere.

Deceit sat next to a guilty man, looking away from Thomas.

“Just don’t be shocked if Remus does anything.”

A small half-smile was on Thomas’ face “no promises.”


	2. Love the New Outfit, Roman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So uh I didn’t mention it in the last chapter’s comments but thank you so much for the support because oml that was quick lol- I’m just grateful that people like this random idea I had
> 
> Also a warning for bruises

That night was certainly an outlier for the liar. 

After living with the other dark sides (mainly Remus) for so long, Deceit thought he’d seen every abnormal thing the world had to offer. 

Clearly, he was wrong, if Thomas needing _Deceit_ was anything to go by. 

Then again, that night had too many outlandish factors. Patton didn’t appear _once_ to scold Thomas for lying, or to comfort his “kiddo”. Virgil was no where to be seen, despite Thomas swirling in a sea of anxiety and guilt. He thought it was reasonable for the other sides to stay quiet, but Roman might’ve wanted to “vanquish the villain”, or Logan might’ve tried to stupidly tell the truth. 

Yet, all of Thomas’ precious “light sides” did absolutely _nothing._

Well, it’s not like Deceit had much time to ponder over it. He had to commit atrocities against society, be a villain, or whatever role the thomasphere wants him to play. 

Shortly after Deceit left Thomas, it was almost morning. How inconvenient, now he’d have to act evil with a limited amount of sleep and _lots_ of coffee. 

He moved over into the dark side’s kitchen, using the little coffee they had left on himself. He certainly didn’t feel tired enough to sleep, just not awake enough to function. That, and his drowsy brain still couldn’t understand _how_ Thomas had decided to trust him, without _any_ of his favorite sides there. Of course he was feeling victorious over it, since Thomas had _willingly_ summoned him _and_ let Deceit have minimum control. Sure, Thomas called for him when he was desperate, but—

...Oh, that made more sense. Of _course_ Thomas didn’t accept Deceit. He was only around for Thomas to dump his flaws on to, not because he was an appreciated side. He should’ve known since last night, he saw Thomas’ panic, Deceit was just a last-resort. 

Now, he didn’t want to think about it. 

He did, however, want to understand why a prince had come to conquer his home. Roman stood in the doorway that separated the sides, and he looked _awful._ His hair looked like chopped wood; strands pointed in every direction, with its previous softness exchanged for grease. The bags that had begun to form under his eyes were alarming, as was the cheap teeshirt and oversized shorts he donned. The newer bruises across his limbs didn’t exactly ease Deceit’s concerns. 

What had _happened?_

“Hello your highness,” came his fake disinterest, “to what do us evil sides owe the _pleasure?_ ”

Creativity opened his mouth, somewhat offended, until he forced himself to calm down with a breath. He thought _neither_ creativity knew what self-control was, making his worry grow secretly. 

“Look, the others are talking to Thomas about something he did, and I _really_ don’t have the energy to be up there. I get that we aren’t exactly friends, I-lied-in, but can you impersonate me this _one_ time? Please?” 

Roman started looking away as soon as the plea left his mouth. Deceit could only taste the bitter truth in his claims of exhaustion (but honestly, no one needed Deceit’s abilities to realize that). 

“Not that I don’t _love_ being a ‘scooby-doo’ villain, but what’s in it for me?” He asked, giving the prince a bored look. 

“I, oh...” Roman scratched his head, possibly to try thinking with his pea-brain, “uh, do you want anything specific?”

He gave the most suspiciously calm grin he could, “well, I’d like for Thomas to achieve world domination, but I’m assuming that’s not in your range of abilities?”

Roman’s dignified response was an owlish blink. 

“Hm, figures. In that case, I guess I’ll just leave you to it—“

“Wait,” his eyes darted around the dark side’s residence, scrambling for an idea. This side of Thomas’ mind, however, wouldn’t help the “pure” side of creativity as much as it would Remus. The room itself wasn’t as open as the light side’s home, as this one was much more cramped. Their furniture was almost gothic, being mostly black and pointed with a few teeth marks, thanks to the Duke. There were a few stains on the walls that seemed too old to remove. Several artworks of Remus’ decorated the rooms, though not of the most... _friendly_ drawings. “Would you... like a new wallpaper? Or maybe a larger room? I could—”

“You could hang out with your brother.”

The Prince’s blabbering ceased immediately. “...what?”

He couldn’t help his eyes from rolling, but he stared the Prince down nonetheless. “It’s my only condition to this. At least for while I’m out, you go hang out with him. Do we have a deal?”

Roman focused at the now extended hand towards him, the yellow glove almost blinding in the dark side’s dull aesthetic. He didn’t exactly _want_ to be with Remus, but the pain he was in seemed to slowly grow each passing moment. Besides, Deceit would probably find out if he tried to find a way around it.

He forced his hesitation to leave him as he shook the liar’s hand. “Deal.”

When his eyes went back to Deceit’s face, he was looking at a mirror image of himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I-lied-in was suppose to be like Aladdin in case that was hard to get- 
> 
> Also happy birthday snake boi


	3. Wow Guys, It’s So Cool How You Never Listen to Roman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for lots of transphobia (mainly misgendering) mentions
> 
> Also thanks again for the support because the comments fuel my motivation-

“You misgendered them _all night!?_ ”

Patton looked nearly mortified at Thomas. Logan seemed contemplative, simply staring at his folded hands. Virgil was pacing, hands harshly tugging at his hair. 

Strangely enough, Roman wasn’t anywhere to be seen. 

They were all situated in Thomas’ living room, with Thomas being on the couch as the sides stood around him. “What else was I suppose to do??” Thomas felt overwhelmed. His morality and anxiety have been upset since he off-handedly mentioned last night (excluding Deceit’s presence). Logan was summoned by them to explain the faults in Thomas’ choices. “I couldn’t just tell their transphobic family that they’re non-binary!” 

Patton looked nearly offended from his words. “Then you fight for _reason!_ You get them to realize how _wrong_ their ideals and beliefs are!”

“I can’t jeopardize their relationship with their family!”

“They aren’t a great family to begin with if they’re transphobic!”

“I...” he sighed, not able to keep up this argument any longer. He had just wanted to keep a friend safe from anymore transphobia, not _cause_ it. Wouldn’t Patton, of all sides, understand that? 

Silence dragged between the four of them, only interrupted by Virgil’s pacing. Patton hugged himself, feeling Thomas’ guilt in brutal waves. 

Letting out a puff of air, Patton turned to Thomas with sympathetic eyes. “Kiddo, just apologize to them. The sooner we do that, the sooner we can make it up to them—”

“Hello all of you appe-sides-ers! You’re the appetizers because I’m the main course—” as “Roman” rose up, albeit rather clumsily, the others looked at him with mixed reactions of shock and annoyance. Virgil almost paused to give him a near-scolding-look. Almost, instead he continued pacing, clearly not in the mood to condemn Roman. 

Yeesh, tough crowd.

“Woah, what tiny violin played in here?” He asked. Patton was about to answer, until Logan beat him to it. 

“Well, last night Thomas got put into a group chat with his friend’s family. Said friend hasn’t come out to their parents as non-binary, and Thomas nearly outed them to their family, who are quite transphobic. So, Thomas ended up misgendering that friend in the group chat, which made their family less suspicious.” 

Oh. Oh _wow._ The _one_ time Thomas actually needs Deceit’s help, desperate or not, these _imbeciles_ have to ruin it. Tarnish Thomas and his actions because he dared to _lie,_ ignoring how _dangerous_ it would’ve been to reveal his friend’s biggest secret to their intolerant family. 

Deceit was boiling. He reigned in any emotion, trying not to already reveal himself. He knew these sides hated his function, his purpose, _him,_ but to take away _any_ chance of being accepted by Thomas as soon as possible? It felt downright cruel. 

“Kiddo?” He looked up, meeting the concern in Patton’s eyes. Curse those eyes, they could probably tell more lies than Deceit could in a _week._

“Was that really _all_ that Thomas did?” He couldn’t help himself. He may be disguised as a Prince, but he could defend himself without causing suspicion. 

Patton looked shocked at “Roman’s” words. “What do you mean, ‘is that all’? He _misgendered_ them!”

“Did he misgender them maliciously? Because it sounds like he was just trying to keep them safe—”

“Does it matter? He still _purposefully_ misgendered them—”

“Patton,” Logan’s smooth voice cut him off, giving the father figment a parental look, ironically enough. “We don’t know what their family would do if our friend were to come out, but due to their transphobia, it’s likely not anything good. We _could_ educate them all we’d like, but nothing would be accomplished unless their entire family tried to listen.”

Morality visibly looked down shamefully. The hug he gave himself became slightly tighter. Virgil spoke up for the first time that day, his voice not quite distorted, “But what if we just made them feel unnecessary dysphoria? What if they thought that we started to care less about them? What if—”

“We can always explain the truth to them, Virgil.” 

Logan’s voice carried on like a wave on a rocky shore. He cooled down the surface, weathering it’s stress and worry away. He calmed Virgil before he spiraled into a panic attack. He got Patton out of his own self-criticism before he felt awful the rest of the day. He reminded Thomas that lying about one’s identity is sometimes the safest thing to do. 

He noticed when “Roman” had left, deserting the shore before it could claim his worries away too. 

He didn’t realize _why_ he had left. He didn’t know that the guilt was strong enough to _literally bruise_ Thomas’ ego, _the Prince_. 

Roman didn’t realize this.

“Roman” did.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh I finished this at like 12 am so I’m sleepy but oh well


	4. Will You Control the One Angry Man Over There?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for lots of Remus
> 
> Also since a good point was brought up last chapter I just wanna say that I’m not trying to imply that outing your lgbtq+ friend or family is a good idea because it probably isn’t most of the time. Patton’s only arguing otherwise because conflict, but please don’t take his words to heart. Anyways, on to the next chapter—

Immediately he appeared into his familiar commons, donning his scales and black-and-yellow outfit.

Quickly, he search for the Prince, or for any signs of chaos. The only things out of the ordinary were some indents on the floor. 

Crouching in front of their room’s hallway, the familiar point of a Morningstar has pierced the floorboards. Thin, scratchy lines led to Remus’ room, small enough to be from the Duke’s signature weapon. On the other side of the hallway, there weren’t anymore indents, much to Deceit’s relief. Nonetheless, the fresher markings _did_ leave him concerned for the Prince. 

Standing up, determined, he went inside the Duke’s room. The odor that followed the opened door was _horrendous,_ nearly making the liar stumble back in disgust. 

The Duke’s gross excuse of a bed was a lump of animal fat, with a beat up pillow and blanket strewn on top. His walls couldn’t decide on what shade of cartoonish barf was more heinous, so they simply went with _every_ hue. Piles of brown and red... _parts,_ littered any corner of his room that existed, and Deceit, dishonestly, wanted to know _exactly_ what they once were. 

Carefully stepping around the many messes of the Duke’s, he quickly moved in front of a slim, pristine and menacing door. The frame had spikes and edges that radiated darkness. The black paint was decorated with thin, green borders. It was the cleanest part of the dumpster the Duke called a room. 

One of two doors to the imagination. 

Remus’ imagination wasn’t anything new to him; he’s been invited to see Remus’ creations before. This was just the first time he’d travel there _alone._

...hopefully the twins haven’t done anything stupid. 

Cautiously opening the door, the other side revealed Remus’ looming tower. Constructed with fragile stones, supported by intertwined vines coated in thorns, Deceit looked at the island nervously.

Due to his limited power over Thomas, Remus’ half of the imagination was contained in an island. Even though Remus could create anywhere in the mind palace, he was nearly godlike on his island. Connected to it was a rickety bridge, and while it was fragile, it was keeping both creativity’s land together. Deceit hasn’t been to Roman’s half of the imagination, all he knew was that it was more of a continent with a grand castle across from Remus’ tower. Half of Roman’s land was unexplored, and neither twin would dare step foot in it. It was definitely an odd agreement to Deceit, but he wouldn’t try and destroy that small connection between them. 

Walking onto the grassy ground, the door behind him slammed shut, before disappearing from view. 

Looks like he’ll have to see this one through. 

Sighing, he walked on over to the front of the tower. It took much longer than it should’ve, since fire would freely sprout out of random patches of grass, and the vines were weary of him (probably since Remus wasn’t with him this time). Still, his worry, or as he called it, his _obligation_ , pushed him to keep going. That, and he didn’t know how to leave with the door gone. 

At the front of the tower, he heard metal clashing against each other. Remus had Roman pinned to the ground, the only thing keeping Roman _safe_ was his sword blocking Remus’ Morningstar. The Duke was cackling, but it sounded far too strained to be genuine. The Prince was fighting back tears, though thankfully some bruises from before were gone (but plenty still remained). 

“That’s enough you two!” 

Both creativities looked at him in shock. Roman had pleading eyes at him, but Remus seemed confused. “Double dick?” He questioned, discarding his Morningstar (much to Roman’s chagrin, the handle fell right onto one of his many bruises). The Duke bounced over to him, his outfit jumping with him. “What in the ten stages of genocide are _you_ doing _here?_ ” 

“Trying to keep your brother from getting hurt. He’s clearly _healthy,_ with him being Thomas’ bruised ego.”

He was glad that his slight shortness hardly impacted his words, as the looming side looked at his brother, sword gone and barely touching his bruised back. 

Deceit couldn’t help but wonder what in the world _happened_ with these two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise the next chapter won’t be boring descriptions


	5. Be Direct Dealing With Your Issues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for Remus shenanigans, but mostly that he could be seen as semi-unsympathetic? (He doesn’t do anything bad besides unknowingly press on one of Roman’s bruises) and some briefly implied logince

“Mind explaining to me why you _weren’t_ about to smash Roman with your Morningstar?”

Thankfully, Deceit was able to get the Duke to carry Roman to their commons. The Prince was laying down on their sofa, occasionally groaning in pain. Remus sat criss-cross on the floor, close to his brother’s head. Deceit sat in an armchair across from them, hands folded in his lap, leg crossed over the other. 

Remus was fiddling with his hands, looking anywhere but Deceit. The liar knew that Remus wasn’t the most... _approachable_ side, but he didn’t think he’d start attacking his _brother,_ much less so quickly. 

It took a few moments for the Duke to start speaking, but with the tense air, time stretched on longer than it should’ve. “Well, I committed the _atrocious_ act of disrespecting the name of Disney. Since Roman was in earshot, he—“

“Remus,” he started, and Remus completely quieted down, “I can tell that you’re giving me a weak half-truth.” 

The Duke let out a defeated sigh, looking away from Deceit. He looked vulnerable, almost as if he would break from Deceit’s reaction. “It’s just... the truth hurts, like sticking your dick in a pencil sharpener.” When his gaze eventually landed on Deceit, it stared at his snake eye, hardly blinking. “Promise me that you won’t bring it up again?” 

There was a reason he stared at the snake eye. He was the only side who knew how to detect when Deceit lies or not. With larger lies, the animal eye would shrink, almost to a slit-shape. When there were no lies, or small ones, his eye would dilate, almost matching his human one. 

Luckily, Remus didn’t see any slits when Deceit answered with “I promise.”

* * *

  
Remus loved his creations. Whether they be horrendous creatures from hell, or items that go beyond “unholy”, everything he makes is done with pride. It seemed like unorganized chaos to everyone else, but his atrocities had an art to them that the others didn’t get. 

Naturally, whenever he made something he _really_ prided himself on, he’d show his fellow sides. Deceit saw most of them, as he tried to understand them and give appreciation where he could. Remus was grateful for that, even when Deceit was completely dumbfounded by whatever he made, he at least _tried_ to be kind. When there wasn’t anything to praise, however, Deceit would give suggestions. Remus often listened to those, since sometimes, they could make his designs _better._ Occasionally, the Duke would show the orange side when Deceit wasn’t available. Although the other was more apathetic towards his art, he at least _attempted_ to pay attention (when he could stomach it, sometimes Remus was just _too_ gruesome for him). The Duke appreciated the effort, even when the orange side had to leave for himself. 

Today wasn’t any exception. Whistling his theme, the Duke walked out of his room. He couldn’t wait to show off the new room in his tower. The inspiration for it was meat factories, and he was rather pleased with the result. He hoped Deceit was in the commons, he’d probably have _tons_ to say about this room. 

Looking at the commons from the hallway containing each dark side’s room, Remus was shocked to see his _brother,_ the prissy, stuck-up, _“good”_ creativity, lumbering onto the couch. His jaw literally dropped, clattering onto the ground, causing Roman to sharply turn towards him, before rubbing his neck with a quiet, “ow.”

Harshly shoving his jaw back in place, Remus zoomed over to his brother, a huge grin facing Roman’s grimace. “Lion Dingus! I didn’t think I’d see you here anytime soon! What’s with the bruises? Oh wait, were you getting _frisky?_ I bet it was with Logan, huh? I can’t say I’m surprised that you’re such a—”

“Remus, _please,_ for the love of Disney, _shut up._ ” Roman had sat down during Remus’ blabbering, feeling a headache start to form. He held his head lightly, trying not to bother the bruises on his forehead and hand. Remus, however, didn’t seem to register _how much_ the bruises hurt, or even how many were _there._

Instead, Remus could only comprehend what Roman has always wanted from him. If he had a dime for every time Roman wanted him to be _quiet,_ he’d have enough money to make all of Thomas’ sides millionaires. He wouldn’t _dare_ listen to Remus. The Duke knew that he could be intense, but he’s fine with being told that, instead of being shushed and ignored. Hell, Roman ignored him so well that _Thomas_ didn’t even _think_ he had two creativities. He couldn’t trust Remus when he announced his title, and he doubted _Logan_ when the _logical_ side confirmed Remus’ statement. 

For Roman to try and silence him, in _Remus’ home,_ made the Duke’s blood boil. It made him maneuver himself to stare Roman dead in the eyes with a fiery glare that defined the saying “if looks could kill.”

“Oh? And why should I, _Roman?_ This isn’t the ‘light corner’ of Thomas’ mind, this is the _‘evil’_ corner, where all of the _bad,_ flesh-eating _parasites_ live. You,” he paused, emphasizing with a jab to Roman’s chest, right on a bruise, “don’t have _any_ authority here.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Splitting this chapter up in two because creativitwins


	6. The Ugliness Within You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for both creativities being unsympathetic (more so Remus), thoughts of death/murder (they don’t die tho,) and overall creativitwins angst (I swear it’ll be more deceit-centered soon). Plus a mention of Jack the Ripper at the very end

Roughly, Roman shoved Remus away. He normally would’ve stood up by then, argue with Remus until one of them left. Maybe their anger would’ve gotten out of hand, and a sword and Morningstar would clash. Instead, weighed down by his bruises, he just stayed on the couch, glaring daggers at Remus. How couldn’t he understand that Roman was in _pain?_ Every movement made irritated some stupid bruise _somehow,_ and he’s hardly felt _better_ since he woke up. If his _moron_ of a brother could just _understand that._

“Shove it, Ursula. I’m not in the mood.” 

Unsettlingly, Remus didn’t respond for a moment that felt eternal. His eyes were wide as ever, but the air around him had changed. He cackled, an empty and hallow cackle that had the Prince, despite being in pain, cowering back a _little_ (he wouldn’t _ever_ admit to how scared he felt in the moment). 

“And when _are_ you, _Roman?_ When can you _BOTHER_ to give me the time of day? All you ever _try_ to do is _force me OUT!_ You shove me away and _only_ talk to me when _you_ want something! And once I help you, I don’t get to exist anymore! You throw me out like a condom and I’m supposed to just _handle it!_ ”

His hands had moved around staccato-like, jaggedly and snippy. Remus was shaking, pure bitterness and _hurt_ shining from his teary eyes. Every grudge and thought he buried into the mutilated, _fake_ Romans’ in the imagination were trying to reveal themselves all at once. With those memories, came the intrusive thoughts with a _real_ Roman. The real Prince, shaking, with Remus cornering him into his demise, right on the couch, with his Morningstar held up at _just_ the right angle to— 

He shook his head, interrupting the thought before it could continue. But then a new one formed, of Roman’s bruises growing. Of those same bruises transforming, crudely opening up in front of him, as his brother began to bleed _everywhere,_ as he— 

“Would you _grow up?_ ”

The Duke’s eyes zapped onto his brother, his safe, _alive,_ brother. He was staring at Remus with a mix of fear and frustration, a look that only Remus ever earned.

A look that Remus has learned to dread. 

“I’m _sorry_ that I don’t want to deal with your gruesome fantasies! Nor do I have the _time_ to! I have to manage Thomas’ _career,_ while you can play in your stupid tower _all day long!_ We aren’t kids anymore, and I have dreams to pursue, while you just have to torture Thomas with horrendous thoughts and nightmares! And even _if_ I wasn’t so busy, even _if_ I could stomach your abominations, I am _covered_ in _bruises!_ I can barely _move_ without _irritating_ them! So when I tell you to shove it, you _listen._ ”

Once his rant was over, the royals stared each other down. Hatred from years of separation and interactions without regard for the other were piling up, overflowing as surrounding them in a tsunami that they couldn’t escape. 

Remus made that tsunami _grow,_ into the imagination. 

He roughly grabbed Roman by the shirt, his Morningstar in his other hand. He dragged both across the floor, ignoring Roman’s complaints of pain and weak efforts of escape. His knuckles were white, not able to let go as he fed into his intrusive thoughts. 

Well, not entirely. The imagination was _suppose_ to make it more fair, only to do the opposite. 

After dragging his brother across his room, and through the slim door into his imagination, he shoved Roman onto the grassy ground. He watched as the door vanished, his brother’s shaky breaths of pain merely background noise behind him. 

“You want me to _shove it?_ ” he turned his head towards the Prince, a challenge in every word and movement. Roman sent him a glare, yet it held no intimidation with Roman’s mantra of curses. 

Roman didn’t even notice a few bruises _fade,_ unaware of Deceit’s impact on the sides with Thomas. 

“Then you better summon that sword of yours, or else I’m shoving _this_ ,” Remus grinned a mad grin, indicating to his Morningstar, “into your skull.” 

Roman attempted to stand, which he could thankfully do. His balance was wonky, but his steadily-growing strength allowed him to summon his iconic weapon. 

Any effort from standing was worthless. Once Remus saw the sword, he attacked so quickly that Roman barely had time to shield himself. It wasn’t long before Roman fell onto his back, now inches away from both weapons.

What would Roman think, if he knew that Remus was fighting _himself?_ Unluckily for his role of intrusive thoughts, he can’t always control himself from acting on them. Try as he may, he couldn’t hold back this time. With all the hurt Roman’s made him feel, with every thought that surrounded _revenge,_ his control was stripped from him. 

And he cackled. He forced the laughter out because his brother was _crying_ and he wouldn’t allow himself to feed into the _want_ to cry with him. 

Slowly, gradually, he was able to loosen up. The Morningstar didn’t press onto the sword as harshly as it had, but it hadn’t moved either. If Remus didn’t stop himself now, he might cause more harm than a shove and some bruises, and so help him if he started to _cry—_

“That’s enough you two!” 

* * *

  
“Then you showed up, and stopped us from going all jack-the-ripper on each other.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a Roman shirt today :D
> 
> Tbh I’m not really happy with this chapter but oh well I guess


	7. I’m So Glad I Did This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for creativitwins angst 
> 
> That’s it I think—

Sometime during the story, the Prince had quieted down. His bruises seemed less bothersome, but that wasn’t enough to ease the awkward air between the royals and the snake. Remus’ eyes refused to look at Deceit’s, instead finding something truly _fascinating_ in the carpet. 

Deceit didn’t want to deal with this, _especially_ since Thomas already has a dilema going on. On one of his many hands, he understands Remus, to an extent. He knows how lonely Roman has made Remus feel. Every time the Duke was ignored, discarded, or scolded to go away by his brother, it was a (metaphorically, thankfully) stab to his heart. The amount of nightmares and gloomy days that Remus struggled with, thanks to the Prince, were too many to count. Sometimes, Remus wouldn’t even _move_ unless Roman, or Deceit, disguised as Roman, was with him the entire day. He also knew of Remus’ awful urges. The amount of times that Remus has ripped off his _own_ limbs as a form of self-control alarmed Deceit. Sure, sometimes the Duke would do something _horrendous,_ but those were done in the imagination, and were all fictional figments of Remus’ darker thoughts.

This was the first time that Remus’ impulse had made him attack a _real_ side. No wonder the Duke looked so anxious, he was probably more scared of _himself_ than whatever he could _think_ of Deceit, or _Roman_ doing. 

His gaze loomed over the royals before going to his lap. Sympathize all he wanted, Remus _still attacked_ Roman. The Prince was already suffering from Thomas’ guilt, so Remus didn’t exactly help. Being assaulted, especially when he wasn’t in _any_ condition to fight, was absolutely unjustified of the Duke, past grudges or not. Sure, Roman was cruel for how he’s treated Remus, but Deceit wouldn’t have _bashed_ him when he was already down. 

He stared at the two of them again, conflict hidden in his eyes. Roman was facing away from both dark sides, staring at the back pillows. Remus’ eyes were figuratively on the ground, unable to look anywhere else. 

Clearly, the couch and carpet held unthinkable treasures that they couldn’t take their eyes off of. They _definitely_ weren’t stalling. 

Sighing, he caught both royals’ attention. Roman commanded him silently, as if he was trying to see Remus get scolded. The Duke quietly pleaded with him, a thousand unsaid apologies in his face. 

They just had to make this _so easy_ on him. 

“Roman,” he began, “how are your bruises?”

He looked at the couch once again, turning his head away from the dark sides. “The ones he gave me, or the old ones?” Remus winced at his brother’s harsh tone. 

“The old ones.” 

He was quiet for a moment, and Remus nearly turned around to look at Roman. “They’re... better, I suppose. I think some of them disappeared.” 

He gave a curt nod, despite being out of Roman’s eyesight. “Good. Do you think you could sink out?” 

“Nah, I’d look quite un-princely if I did.” 

Great, now Deceit had to help Roman _out_ too. He wasn’t experienced with sinking out, much less sinking out _other_ sides, but Roman couldn’t without hurting his _own_ ego. Frankly, Deceit wasn’t sure if that would cause Roman anymore _physical_ pain, but he wasn’t about to risk it.

He rose up from his chair, making Roman look over as Remus cautiously observed them both. “Come on, Roman. I’ll take you back to the light sides.” 

Princey rose a brow at Deceit. “Are you sure about that, Lie & Order? I don’t think the others would be happy to see you.”

On second thought, maybe Remus should’ve knocked the stupidity out of Roman. “ _Really_? I had _no_ clue. Oh, if only I had a disguise to use.” 

A snort came out of Remus, as Roman rolled his eyes. “Alright, you’ve made your point.” Slowly, the Prince stood up. He definitely _seemed_ to be doing better, but he clearly wasn’t fully healed. He stumbled a bit, and stood in place for a moment, as if steadying himself. Remus looked ready to help him up, but quickly thought better of it. 

When Roman looked at Deceit, he donned sunglasses and a leather jacket. A basic pair of jeans and a white shirt was on him, with a paper saying “sleep” in all caps. His scales were no where to be seen, but the tone and look he gave Roman radiated sass. 

“Ready to go, your highness?”

* * *

Logan looked at where Roman had suspiciously sunk out. He couldn’t help but ponder about it, since there seemed to be no reason to leave. In fact, Roman seemed to be _fine,_ at first. The other three were, quiet clearly, stressed, but Roman...  
  
He seemed _angry._ Angry at Patton, mostly, but it was still odd. Not to mention, the Prince brought up an astute point against the “dynamic duo”. Yet, not long after Logan helped the others see Roman’s point, creativity didn’t relish in his victory, or even announce that he was leaving. Logan isn’t sure if he _sunk out,_ and simply vanished. 

Glancing at the Prince’s spot by the television, he knew that he’d have to check on him later. 

Or maybe he’d have to check on some _other_ sides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately Remy isn’t gonna be an actual character in this—


	8. It Takes a Liar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for one use of the word bitch and for a tired Deceit

His goodbye to Remus was brief. Roman wouldn’t look in his brother’s general direction, so Deceit figured that extended pleasantries would only make the trip awkward. Remus, ever so honest, only gave him a timid “see ya later, double dee,” before glancing towards his brother. 

The amount of guilt Deceit had seen in less than a day was almost concerning. 

Nonetheless, he and Roman walked to the door separating the sides. The scales on one hand reappeared, only to turn the knob. The door glowed a soft yellow in response, a mix of inviting and intimidating. Roman stared at it, confusion evident on his face. 

“It only opens from this side when I allow it to,” answered the snake, not bothering to let Roman ask. “Or if I give another side permission, but otherwise, it won’t open from this way.” He walked through the door after the royal, closing it with the same hand before the scales concealed themselves again.

“Oh,” came the Prince’s reply, “so… you gave _Remus_ permission?” The tone he carried almost sounded like an annoyed child-- unable to change the rules, but still mad about them anyways.

Deceit merely shrugged in response as they journeyed across the “ _perfect_ ” side’s commons. Unlike the darker half of Thomas’ personality, these sides had a much warmer atmosphere. Their furniture was either round, soft, or both. Everything was clean, hardly any stains or dust in sight. There were old and new pictures on the wall, some art (mostly Roman’s), some photos. How _disgustingly_ wholesome. “For now. I _can_ revoke it if I must.” Not entirely true, he’d need Remus’ consent first (and, somehow, to make Thomas completely forget about his darker creativity). 

Their footsteps were the loudest sound around them, awkwardly enough. The Prince’s face was still for a moment. Deceit didn’t want to dwell on whatever Roman could be thinking of, so he didn’t. 

He could already tell that it wasn’t anything _good._

Soon enough, they were in front of the mirroring hallway of the “light” side’s rooms, two doors on each side. 

“So... what happened?”

They had walked in front of Roman’s door, a blinding red looking down at them. Roman wasn’t facing Deceit, but his eyes were piercing into him. 

“Well,” he began, “Patton was scolding Thomas, Virgil was panicking, and Logan was observing. All _you_ did was call Patton out for being unrealistic, and Logan agreed with _you._ ” 

That got the Prince to face him. His eyes were wide, but not as wide as his brother’s permanently were. “I did _what_ to Patton?” 

“Did I stutter?” He rose a brow at the Prince. Surely Remus taught them that Patton wasn’t perfect, right? Even _Logan_ pointed out that the fatherly figment was setting unrealistic expectations, so why was the idea of criticizing Patton making Roman look so... _worried?_

“Oh Zeus— that’s the stupidest thing you could’ve done!” Strangely enough, Roman’s tone sounded regretful, as if he was referring to himself instead of Deceit. “Now Patton’s going to start blaming himself for being upset! He’ll start hating himself for being wrong— if he even was —and everyone will be mad at me for it!”

For the love of Immanuel Kant, how many guilty men could come out of _one day?_ Exasperated, he pinched the bridge of his nose, before facing Roman. His palms and fingers were pressed against each other, pointing upwards, then towards Roman. “Look, if it’ll make _you_ feel better, then _I_ can do my best to prevent Patton from his...” his hand gestured vaguely, as they had both come down between his words, “...problem.” Truth be told, Roman could worry his dramatic head all he’d like, and Deceit _wouldn’t_ care. But since the sides affected Thomas, and could therefore make him worried, he felt nothing short of obligated to, at _least,_ make the favorites worry less. Regardless, all of the helping Deceit has been doing was becoming tedious. 

Roman looked him in the eye for a moment, his worry switching into hope, before landing on confusion. “I appreciate the offer, Salazar Slytherin, but how would _you_ be able to help _Patton?_ ”

He waved his hand dismissively, “Don’t worry about it, Patton will be fine.”

* * *

The living room was much calmer now. Patton, though a bit on edge, had stopped hugging himself protectively, as he sat next to Thomas. Virgil had shifted from pacing to bouncing his leg up and down, on his normal area atop the stairs. Thomas, though feeling much better now, still was a bit out of it. Logan was still standing next to Virgil, though he seemed lost in thought. His arms were crossed, his eyes unfocused.

“Logan?” Patton softly questioned, making Logan face him. “Are you feeling alright, kiddo?”

The logical trait only sighed in response. “Patton, we’re the same age. But no, I don’t feel anything.” He looked ready to reject Logan’s point, but the brain wasn’t done, “I’m going to look for Roman. I want to check on him.”

And with that, he sunk out, reappearing in the light side commons. Everything looked in place. The pictures were still and untouched, no creases had been made in the furniture, and the door to the others remained locked. 

Yet, Roman was seen nodding to a man in a leather jacket, before he entered his room. He observed the bruises and lazy outfit on the Prince, making Logan concerned. He didn’t approach yet, however, as the leather-clad man turned around.

For a split moment, one side of his sunglasses blinked a sudden yellow. Upon seeing Logan, however, the color vanished as soon as it had appeared. The man’s eyes were now obscured by his sunglasses, but he had a smirk on his face that looked similar to Roman’s: it was coated in false confidence.

“Oh, hey bitch.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took way too long to write because writers block hates me


	9. Fibber On The Roof

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for Remus antics, some (kinda) unsympathetic Logan, and swearing
> 
> Also thank you for 100+ kudos because holy crap I didn’t expect that at all— but I’m incredibly grateful for it and for all the comments and bookmarks that this has gotten. Just-- big thank y’all have no idea how happy the support makes me

Well, this was _so convenient._

Sure, Deceit was disguised in case _some_ side saw him, but it just _had_ to be Logan. Inquisitive, observant, filled-with-too-many-questions Logan. The side who had, and will act like Sherlock Holmes if he deems it necessary. 

The side that _always_ sees through him (minus, of course, _him_ ). 

“Excuse me?” Logan looked baffled by Deceit’s question. _Good,_ maybe he’ll back off. 

“Already? Fine, I guess you’re excused.” He quickly turned towards the door to his home. Where green and orange were, not _stupid_ “light” sides and their stupid problems. No guilt over a situation that _really_ didn’t need to be so blown out of proportion. No disguises over stupid dilemas. 

“That’s not what I— hold on,” Logan commanded, stopping Deceit in his tracks. Dammit, he was _so_ close. Just a step or two, and he would’ve been left alone.   
  
Except that single step was wasted by the buffoon of a nerd as he approached Deceit. He was studying him, as if taking mental notes in a mental binder (probably color-coded and whatnot, he could be more extra than the Prince sometimes). “You are not a side. Shouldn’t you be in the imagination, with all of the other ‘shorts’ characters?” He crossed his arms, as if he were some authority over Deceit.

He rolled his eyes at Logan, already prepared to lie. “Well _yeah,_ but I _can_ leave if I want to, gurl. But like, it _shouldn’t_ be a problem though, since I’m _not_ a side.” His words were as sickly sweet as Patton, but instead of sweet kindness, it was the sweet and sugary taste of his lies. Honestly, he much preferred their taste over truths, which were so sour that _Remus’_ awful tastebuds would suffer from them. 

Logan continued to look over him, analyzing him for his own robotic need. “I suppose not, but why would you go to the dark side’s half of the mindscape?” he asked, raising a brow in clear suspicion. 

Regardless, Deceit stayed calm. If he’s learned anything from his cameos in Thomas’ show, it’s that retaliating often led to being exposed. After all, his last two covers were blown after he became frustrated. “Why not? Maybe they like, _have_ some coffee I can like steal. I like, ran out earlier, and if I don’t get some now I’ll _become_ a huge bitch.” 

Yet Logan didn’t let up. He seemed far too persistent in keeping Deceit away from his home. “You do realize that we also have coffee, correct? Roman could certainly create any flavor that you would enjoy.”

Well, the brainiac wasn’t wrong. “so could Remus, gurl, and he _is_ like, throwing this party later that I just, like, _have_ to go to.” Honestly, he wished he’d gone with that lie first. He doubts any of the _favorite_ sides are throwing a party themselves. 

“And how long is ‘later’?”

“Like, _about an hour._ Anyways, nice chatting with you bitch, but I’ve gotta go.” He started to go towards the door yet again, only this time to have Logan follow him. 

“Has Patton given you permission to open the door? If not, I highly doubt that would work for you.” 

...oh, he had forgotten about that. While he has control over one side of the door, Patton has control of the other. He can give the others permission like Deceit can, but he hasn’t been granted permission, unlike every “light” side. 

“That’s a thing? Ugh, that sucks.” Facing Logan, he said, “well gurl, could you like, be a dear and help me out? I’ll like, owe you one or something.” 

He ended up staring at Deceit for a few more moments (what _was_ this nerd so suspicious about?) before reluctantly opening the door. It glowed a deep blue for a moment, before smoothly opening up. He slipped into the darker commons briskly, grateful to finally be away from the others. 

“Thank you bitch, ciao.” He said, before quickly closing the door. He saw Logan’s mouth open, ready to ask something _else,_ most likely, but he could really care less. His disguise quickly left him once the door was closed, the iconic caplet and hat returned with his scales. A sigh of relief left him, glad to finally be away from _those_ sides. 

His tranquil happiness was short-lived, however, as he heard obnoxious sobbing from the couch. Looking towards the noise, he saw the Duke, his shaking back facing him, with blood stains surrounding the royal. 

Oh _lord,_ Remus was fully devoured by his guilt. Typically, the only person who could get the Duke out of such a state was the one he treated unfairly.

...Which, unsurprisingly, happened to be his brother. 

Seeing as Remus hadn’t acknowledged his presence, Deceit hastily made himself look like the Prince. This time, instead of a tidy appearance with the blindingly cliché outfit, he had the shorts and teeshirt on from earlier, as well as some realistic bruises mottled on his skin, not a scale in sight.

Morally, Deceit knew that he should’ve just gotten the real Roman. That way, they could potentially mend their brotherly bond, and be honest with each other. Realistically, Deceit knew that wouldn’t happen. With how damaged their brotherhood is, _especially_ after today, it would take a miracle to bring them together. Of course, since both halves of creativity are as stubborn as Disney villains, they’d never let bygones be bygones. They couldn’t forget whatever the other had done. 

Hence why Deceit was now sitting next to Remus, gently (but quickly, to stay in character) prying Remus’ hands away from the bloody heart his nails had dug into. 

Well, at least he has an explanation for the blood. 

* * *

  
Logan was baffled by Sleep’s actions. He seemed so eager to head into the dark side’s commons, and hardly wanted to talk to Logan. 

He understood the latter, since Logan could often ramble too much when unchecked (but he usually gave out _knowledge_ , so he couldn’t understand not wanting to _somewhat_ listen). The former, however, he just couldn’t wrap his head around.

The others weren’t exactly _pleasant._ Granted, he’s not quite sure about the orange one, he hasn’t seen him that often before. The green one, however, was _definitely_ unwanted company. He was spontaneous at best and murderous at worst. Plus, Sleep wasn’t a side, and therefore not necessary for Thomas to function. If Remus hurt him beyond repair, then there would be no coming back from _that._ Roman would be devastated, to have yet _another_ creation destroyed by his brother, and an unbalanced pair of creativity wouldn’t be good for Thomas’ career.

Then again, maybe he was attending the “party” (Logan was quite doubtful that a party was _actually_ happening) to converse with the deceitful side instead. But what could Sleep _gain_ from that? Deceit hardly spoke in truths, and even _if_ he did, there was no guarantee that his words meant anything, or if they were typical lies. He was a manipulative side who, while _was_ necessary, was not as important for Thomas as the light sides were. 

He stared at the door for a few moments, figurative gears turning in his head. He could dwell about it all he likes, but he still had a task ahead of him. 

The Prince was still bruised, after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel like I should mention it but every time Deceit lies when speaking it’s italicized— I know that’s a common thing in fics but it felt necessary to mention 
> 
> Regardless, I’m kinda considering getting a tumblr because I wanna be more interactive in the fandom— so should I? I know that the site isn’t managed well but idk it seems like it’d be fun to have an account


	10. You Might Not Like What You Find

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for the word fuck, Remus antics (specifically a heart being squeezed, literally), lots of tears with some comfort, and some panic happens

“Remus,” he breathed, the first sound since the Duke had squeezed the heart (which, thankfully, wasn’t any _side’s_ heart). He was still sobbing, but the death grip he’d have on his clothes each time “Roman” spoke acknowledged the other side’s presence. He avoided “Roman’s” eyes like the plague, so Deceit didn’t push. He and Remus had just been sitting on the couch, heart abandoned on their coffee table. 

Finally, _finally,_ Remus made a sound that wasn’t heavy breathing or tears. He chuckled, lightly, and it was so fake Deceit could taste a hint of lies from it. 

But he wouldn’t bring it up. Roman can’t _taste_ lies, after all. That was Deceit’s job.

And right now, he was Roman. 

Remus looked at him, his eyes glistening with more tears. Despite all of the guilt he’d seen in less than a full day, Deceit nearly blew his cover at seeing Remus’ face. Dark eyeshadow slid all over his cheeks. The maniac gleam in his eyes was gone, and the smile that he always seemed to have was replaced by a mockingly somber one. 

Thomas’ guilt only made Deceit worried. Patton’s guilt made him feel nearly victorious, and rather petty. Remus’ guilt… it felt like a stab to his heart. 

“Why… why did you come back?” He asked, and even his _voice_ had lost its normal crazy (yet, _somehow,_ endearing) tone. He just stared at “Roman”, as if he had every reassuring answer that Remus needed. 

“... _Deceit told me about your... urges._ ” He settled on that sugary lie, expecting the full force of a morningstar on him. Maybe Remus would be kind and use a mace instead, that way spikes wouldn’t be lodged into his head. 

Instead, in a very un-Remus-like manner, the Duke just looked at the heart, his hands itching to touch it again. “I can’t say I’m surprised…” he stared, and a small, _maybe genuine_ smile grew, just a smidge, on his face. “Y’know… he said that he wouldn’t tell anyone secrets they didn’t need to know, so I guess you needed to know about… _that._ ” He was avoiding “Roman” again, but he understood _why._ Remus never liked his urges, and they started not long after the split. He could become dangerous, aggressive, and now _murderous,_ before he could get an inch of control back. 

“Well, I don’t fully blame you for what happened.” As soon as the words left him, Remus turned towards him suddenly, surprise across his devastated face. “I mean, you definitely need to learn how to control those better, but you had enough control not to kill me, which is progress for you. So…” he turned his whole self towards the Duke, and the absolute hope shining in the green one was unmistakable, and almost _welcomed_ in this situation. 

Regardless, he opened his arms for a hug, and the powerful armful of Remus that tackled him sent them _both_ flying off the couch, with a Princely “ow” and a chorus of relieved Duke laughter. It would’ve been a perfect outcome, if Roman had actually been here.   
  


* * *

Once he had, _at last,_ was in his room, Deceit felt more at ease since Thomas had called for him that night. The amount of lying and disguising was, while _exhausting_ … pleasant. He knew it wasn’t healthy for so many lies to exist in hardly any time, yet…

He couldn’t remember the last time he was ever _this_ needed. 

It felt _weird_ to be a necessary option, for _both_ Thomas and his sides, and somewhat out of place. Granted, there wasn’t any _plan_ for him to lie so much today, but still…

As unhealthy as it was, he almost wanted another day like this to happen. 

He shook his head slightly, not wanting to waste time just contemplating. He’d probably have to go check on Patton anyway for Roman, and possibly talk to Roman about Remus. _Geez,_ Thomas’ sides _really_ need to work on their communication. 

Concentrating for a moment, he created two mice out of thin air (he could _technically_ make anything, but both creativities were much more adapted for that). Henry and Edward’s conjoined body slithered towards him from inside their vivarium. Gently, he lifted the top of the enclosure to feed them said mice. The snakes mercilessly swallowed their prey whole, as Deceit’s hand barely escaped the same fate. Nonetheless, their serpentine ways made him chuckle, always bringing his mind some peace. And after seeing Remus so distraught… Deceit _definitely_ needed some peace.

Once his two darlings had finished their meal, they slithered deeper into their vivarium, but not without giving him twin bleps. He blepped right back, with some fake exasperation, but nonetheless smiled as they slithered. Once they were out of sight, he trudged over to his bed, sleepiness in every step. It took a lot out of him to be disguised, moreso three in a few hours (sure, he went as Roman twice, but the differences in a bruised Roman and a normal one were contrasting enough). 

The capelet and hat were placed on his nightstand, as his shoes were discarded before he let himself fall back onto his bed with a _thump._ He would’ve then sighed in contentment, ready to fall in blissful sleep’s comforting arms, before he’d inevitably leave to play a role yet again.

What stopped him from doing that, however, was the object oddly poking at his side. Curiously, he maneuvered his hand down towards whatever was doing that. He picked it up to his eyes, examining it. 

Oh, just some mirror. The fusha coloring of it somewhat hid the grey elephant head on the back, with cotton-candy swirls surrounding it. The front had normal glass in its place, but the oval shape was divided into six parts by six colors, with green and red on top, purple and baby blue in the middle, and orange and navy on the bottom. Each color was covered by their corresponding side’s logo, each of them giving a soft, ominous glow.

He stared at the back again, the simplistic, singular elephant eye, looking down at him. He could consider it as a side’s logo, but there weren’t any _pink_ sides. The only person that could be considered such was Emile, but he was just a character in Thomas’ imagination. He could hardly imagine the therapist leaving the imagination, much less putting such a weird object in _his_ room, or even having this mirror. Turning it back to the front, where the logos continued to glow, Deceit’s puzzlement only increased. Why wasn’t _his_ logo there? No twin-headed snake, or yellow (besides Roman’s logo), was visible on the mirror. 

His thumb absentmindedly brushed over the stormcloud on the glass. He didn’t expect anything to happen, nor did he think it would. It took an unexpected pounding in his skull for him to realize something was wrong, the mirror slipping from his grip and on to his chest.   


_A dark, eerie ceiling greeted him after he woke up. He simply glared at it, the deep grey too bright for his tired eyes, despite being a darker color. Regardless, he grabbed his phone after a few minutes, a thumb scrolling through posts without any thought._

 _Now, he was pacing. His eyes were bulging out of his head, black nails digging into his hair as loud voices argued in the background. The scene was in Thomas’ living room, but t_ he _rest was fuzzy. It all looked like a poorly edited video: choppy movements, a missing frame-- or maybe moment --here or there, and every sound seemed to be underwater._

  
Deceit was nearly hyperventilating as he threw the mirror away from him. His breathing was rapid, and the… _visions,_ he supposed, were fresh in his mind. He’d recognize the first room anywhere, and the spider wallpaper on the purple-encased phone? It was _his_ room. Yet, Deceit didn’t feel any anxiety when he was in it. In fact, he couldn’t feel the unmistakable cold of his scales on his face, or anywhere else. Even as the second scene happened, he could only see purple laces on black sneakers, rather than the villainous shoes he normally donned, while pacing. Now with his mind clearer, he recognized the argument’s participants as Patton and Thomas, but their words weren’t understandable.

His eyes widened as he seemed to realize what had happened. He knew the argument, and the visible pacing had happened today, and he knew of one person who would’ve woken up in such a halloween-esque room.

Deceit had, _somehow,_ been given parts of _his_ memory.

Unlike some nerdy sides, however, Deceit was _not_ willing to test this mirror out. All he knew was that it was strange, and he’ll admit, a _little_ scary, but not enough for him not to throw it out. His hand was outstretched, ready to chuck this crazy mirror into the subconscious to _never_ be seen again.

But he reeled it back as, instead of yellow gloves and a grey sleeve, black-painted nails and purple patches on black met his eyesight.

He merely stared at his arm for a moment, before hastily tugging the sleeve, trying to get it off. Once his arm was free, however, the hoodie latched back onto him, unwilling to let go. A few more attempts of this passed, but the hoodie remained persistent. After it got through his stubborn skull that _that_ didn’t work, he roughly grabbed the mirror. Looking into it, the glass was much clearer and regular _now,_ but the glow of colors, while dulled, hadn’t faded away. When his eyes landed on the mirror, heavy black eyeshadow covered his new eyebags. A black hood shielded his head, but he didn’t register it amongst the sheer _disbelief_ of how much he looked like _him._

Frantically, he scanned the glass for anything, absolutely _any-fucking-thing,_ that could fix _this._ Sure, this look could be convenient when aiding Patton later, but he couldn’t use it for much else! 

Several long, _terrifying_ moments passed, before something caught his eye. Where the purple light once was, a weak, barely visible yellow glow shone in its place. Without a moment's hesitation, he slammed his thumb into the familiar color.

In a matter of milliseconds, at _most,_ scales now donned his head, the weight of a hood completely vanished. With the previous six logos and brighter lights now in view, he couldn’t see his reflection as well as before. The scales barricading half of his face, however, were enough to tell him that he was back to his sly self, not missing a single thing (well, he liked the height increase, but he wouldn’t keep it if it meant being _him_ ). 

...There was no way Deceit could nap now. He’d have to take a page from Logan’s book, and study this… _thing,_ before something _stranger_ happened. 

Or, before it fell into irresponsible hands.

* * *

Y’know, this plan of his had a somewhat hypocritical beginning. He really just _had_ to start it off by doing the opposite of his goal.

Nonetheless, he was proud of the serpent for putting up with it. A rocky start, sure, but in due time…

_He’d be back._  



	11. How’s That Working Out For You?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for a spooked Deceit and one angry emo

It wasn’t a secret that Deceit was a liar, but typically he was a liar towards _others_. He hadn’t meant to lie to himself about testing out the mirror, but he wasn’t exactly eager to use it. 

So, here he sat on his bed, merely staring at the logos with their glowing backgrounds. He wasn’t stalling— or hesitating— he was merely... observing the glass. Maybe he had cracked it when he threw the mirror, and now it wouldn’t work. Maybe he was just imagining things— he _had_ been in the imagination earlier, so it wouldn’t surprise him if that had affected him. Never mind the fact that he _knew_ the imagination could only impact Thomas’ creativities, there was always the off chance that—

He couldn’t lie to himself forever. The sweet and sugary taste of his internal denial was almost overwhelming. He’d have to face the music eventually anyways, so he might as well get it over with. 

But it felt so... _unnatural,_ when he became _him._ Normally, his disguises were centered on Deceit trying to act. He had a role to play, of course, but he still _felt_ like Deceit, not as the side he was impersonating. Hell, if anything he had to _try_ and forget himself while he was in disguise.

As _him,_ however... 

Sure, he didn’t exactly disguise himself as _him_ if he could avoid it, but anytime he has, it felt like any other disguise (just _slightly_ more painful, but he wouldn’t admit that). He was still in a role, performing for his audience from the Thomasphere. The mirror, however, made the disguise feel the _opposite_ of how it normally would. 

With the mirror, Deceit, _somehow,_ saw brief memories from _him._ He felt taller than he normally was (Deceit, _unfortunately,_ wasn’t exactly the tallest side), and his scales felt beyond _gone,_ moreso as if they never existed in the first place. Large eyebags appeared, with eyeshadow _identical_ to what _he_ had worn today. He could almost _feel_ the past nail indents in his head from _his_ past panic. 

It was… _unnerving,_ to say the least. 

He scanned the logos on the mirror once again, always avoiding the purple in the middle. _Who would be a good test run?_ His orange friend probably wouldn’t be the best option, since there aren’t many moments where he’d _need_ to be them. Logan could work, since, the logical side _was_ easy to impersonate. He just had to remain monotone, and possibly throw in a big word every now and then. Plus, he could use a Logan disguise to help out Patton later, per Roman’s frenzied request.

Honestly, if these sides didn’t affect Thomas so much, Deceit would hardly bother with helping _any_ of them. Remus was an exception, he’d gladly help the green side if he asked. Only because the Duke needed more humane help than his brand of creativity granted him. 

...Why did _that_ taste like a lie? 

He shook his head. Deceit had to focus on the mirror, and determine if it was worth the trouble. Although, Remus might not be a bad option. His eyes trailed from the brain to the sword, pondering. He knew mostly about what Remus, and his brother for that matter, did recently. The memories he could gain from them would be more expected, compared to the other sides. Though, he _had_ acted out Roman more than he’d like in one day, and he would probably need to look like the Duke _later,_ when talking to the Prince. 

If those two could just talk to _each other,_ Deceit wouldn’t have to disguise _himself_ and fix their problems. Or if Remus cared less someday, but that wasn’t likely to come, nor emotionally healthy. 

With those two considered… he glanced at the heart with glasses, it’s baby blue glow innocently shining at him. Patton… might be a _perfect_ test run. Although the dad wasn’t necessary today, Deceit’s had _plenty_ of moments where looking like Patton was more than helpful. Besides, Patton, while he is in charge of nostalgic memories, he’s _awful_ with his own memory, so Deceit likely won’t be bombarded with many of Patton’s past thoughts.

Now that he had his decision, Deceit’s thumb hovered over the heart with poor eyesight. 

And he hesitated. Deceit knew that he should just get it over with, yet… oh, who cares? He shut his eyes and harshly slammed his thumb on to the heart, this time prepared for the memories to invade. 

  
_He rose up to Thomas’ kitchen, proud as can be to see his kiddo cooking for himself. Hello Fresh was definitely helping Thomas with adultery, and he couldn’t be happier for him!_

_“Heya kiddo!” He greeted, as Thomas turned around to look at him. He saw some eyebags on Thomas that he_ definitely _needed to fix, with how much Logan talks about healthy sleep schedules. His kiddo gave him a sleepy wave, before facing his stove yet again. The eggs and bacon looked nearly ready, though Thomas didn’t seem too focused on them. He looked kinda out of it, as if he’s daydreaming, or pondering. Probably the latter, since Logan normally woke up before him._

_But alas, the scene started to fade out before he could ask Thomas how he was feeling._

_The change of scenery was uncanny, as these were another set of choppy memories, but now he was yelling at Thomas. Scolding him for being so uncaring of his friend. He needed to help instead of lie! Lying is bad in any scenario, Thomas should know this! He had two videos over it!_

_Yet the scene shifted again, though it morphed into mere glimpses of moments, where Logan was comforting everyone in the living room._

* * *

He and Patton had entered the mind palace not long after Logan did. Sadly, he didn’t really know how to help the moral side. He still seemed upset about how he acted with Thomas, yet he’d just act like he’s ok if Virgil asked. 

So, while Patton stayed in the commons, forcibly trying to cheer himself up by making some food (probably macaroni, if the classic blue cup was anything to go by), Virgil had bigger fish, or rather _snakes,_ to fry. 

Out of sight, he opened up the door separating the light from the dark, a purple glow following his touch. A gloomy commons he never wished to see again greeted his vision, as he closed the door behind him. 

Honestly, he wasn’t sure if Deceit influenced Thomas to lie last night, but with how much of a frenzy it put Patton in, and the fact that Thomas had _lied..._

He felt like he and Deceit needed to _chat._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this is kind of a boring chapter, I just had a lot to do today so posting this took longer than I planned on it taking


	12. I Adore The More Intense Eyeshadow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for swearing, very brief mentions of transphobia and misgendering, and some angsty boys

His sharp inhale became the loudest sound in his room. The memories, while rather dull, felt so _stifling._ They replaced his senses with Patton’s, almost as if they were _trying_ to loose Deceit in Patton’s memories. 

He shook his head, unwilling to let himself be buried into those thoughts. He brought the mirror to his face, less frantically than last time.

With the colorful glows dulled, his reflection showed the spitting image of Patton, iconic glasses on chubby cheeks. The cat hoodie was wrapped around his shoulders, the baby blue polo underneath it. He even held the bouncier curls in his hair that only Patton seemed to have. Absentmindedly, he touched the side of his face where his scales _should_ be, but only felt soft skin instead, as if it had _always_ been skin.

Besides his appearance, his mood felt vastly different. He wasn’t filled with fear with this transformation, unlike how _his_ felt. Instead, this one made him feel... _juvenile,_ as he just noticed his legs absentmindedly kicking, one after the other. How incredibly _stupid._ He had to restrain himself to stop, only to look at the now still limbs, dangling on the side of his bed, where he sat. 

Only to now kick again. 

Sure, he knew that this was a habit of Patton’s when he was sitting, but it wasn’t a habit of _Deceit’s!_ He had more dignity than childish mannerisms.

...except for when he was _Patton,_ apparently. 

But in his _own_ disguises, he had to _think_ of everyone’s weird habits. He’s never had them happen so... _naturally,_ without a second thought. 

...this mirror was clearly... _abnormal,_ probably _dangerous_ to use. It took any details from the other sides and gave them to Deceit, even going so far as to give him their _memories,_ regardless of how brief they were. Yet, oddly, Deceit hardly cared about the risks. It worked too well to complain about, but _too_ well to not question. 

He couldn’t do that now, however, as he started to hear _stomping_ coming towards his room. He frowned at the noise, hadn’t Remus calmed down already? 

Though now they were a little _too_ close to his room for comfort, so he scanned the mirror’s glass. The glows were nearly nonexistent, but he saw a faint hint of yellow where baby blue had once been. He hurriedly tapped his signature color, the footsteps right in front of his room. 

The door was ripped open, black-painted nails gripping his door knob. 

* * *

His hand tightened on the knob as the other burrowed itself into his hoodie pocket. They were nearly trembling from just being inside _this_ half of the mind palace, but seeing _Deceit,_ one-on-one after _last time..._

It wasn’t a fun experience, to say the least. 

The slimy _liar_ stared him down, nonchalance boring into him. Virgil hated how _easily_ he could do that, even when he had seen those concealed gloves put _something_ under his pillow.

Something that he couldn’t help but narrow his eyes at. 

“Can I help you?” What a sardonic tone, would it _kill_ Deceit to seem interested in something that _wasn’t_ deception? 

“Actually, you _can._ ” he snarled through gritted teeth, as he stormed over to the liar. Not a care in the world as Virgil approached. “You need to leave Thomas the fuck _alone._ I know it was _you_ who made him lie last night.”

A forked tongue poked out for a brief moment, before he simply examined his nails. _Bastard._ “Oh do _enlighten_ me, Virgil. What would Patton’s _precious, honest kiddo_ have to lie about?” 

He scowled, how _dare_ he say Patton’s name with such _apathy?_ After all of the names, ridicule, and _lies_ he has told about the bubbly side, Deceit didn’t _deserve_ to be in the same _room_ as him. “You know exactly _what,_ and I’m not in the mood for your _bullshit._ You’re lucky that Thomas’ friends are so forgiving, after he _lied_ to their family and _misgendered_ them.”

The liar merely rolled his eyes. “Oh, I _hadn’t_ realized that a transphobic family would be accepting of their non-binary child, someone who is trans. Silly me, I clearly thought _wrong_.”

He wasn’t in the mood to recreate Thomas and Patton’s previous fight, especially since Deceit was hardly ever persuaded that he _could,_ and is typically incorrect about what’s best for Thomas. Yet, being fight or flight, and in front of someone who he’d _gladly_ fight...

“And Thomas could’ve fought for them, helped them leave such a toxic family, help them _be themselves_ without being stifled by their supposed ‘family.’”

That seemed to bring out _something_ in the liar, as he almost seemed to show a flicker of inscrutable _interest._ Looks like he _could_ show something other than confident indifference. “And jeopardize any chance they could have of educating their family? Let that family stay ignorant forever, never giving them a chance to change?” He wouldn’t look Virgil in the eyes, _coward._ Deceit mumbled something that he could hardly hear, but what was the point of listening? He’d probably just blabber some bullshit lie or half-truth that Virgil couldn’t figure out, and was frankly too tired to care about it. 

“Like _that_ would ever happen. You can’t make Thomas tolerate people out of false hope.” He stared Deceit down, even when the _snake_ stared right back. “And you _better_ not hurt him, or _any_ of the light sides, like you hurt **_me._** ”

And finally, he flinched. He still lazily looked at Virgil, like he wasn’t worth Deceit’s gaze. Yet the flinch was there, and that’s all Virgil needed to know that his warning got through.

He stormed out of the room, shutting the yellow door behind him. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felt like it was necessary to mention so here— no, none of the sides are going to be completely unsympathetic. Whether it’s about their history, or what they do nowadays, they’re all going to become sympathetic. The light sides are only tagged as morally neutral because of the whole deepest ion between the sides, but they will become sympathetic.
> 
> And Virgil's distorted voice is gonna be bolded so fun fact


	13. It Seems These Days Your Moral Compass Is Pointed South

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for cursing, mentioned transphobia, Deceit and Patton being sad, and a brief implied unsympathetic!dark sides (they aren’t of course but it’s briefly implied at the end)

He stared down his door as soon as it was slammed shut, hardly blinking until the sound of stomping was long gone. He let out a shaky breath that he was absentmindedly holding, but he wasn’t relaxed in the slightest. 

Deceit knew that he was in the right. He was protecting Thomas’ friend! That _was_ worth lying to their family and misgendering them. Sure, he knew Thomas regretted the misuse of pronouns, but it was better than the wrath their family would bring.

His actions were under the whole “being selfless” agenda that morality fought for, so why was it such an _evil_ choice?

_“I am_ covered in bruises! _I can barely_ move _without_ irritating _them!”_

Though, Roman _was_ quite beat-up from Thomas’ contrite thoughts...

 _“They aren’t a great family to begin with if they’re_ transphobic! _”_

He wouldn’t deny that transphobia is awful, but Thomas couldn’t just swoop in and save the day! He needs to focus on himself too, and what if their friend didn’t _want_ Thomas to fight for them? What if he had ruined a family bond that his friend (for some reason) wanted to keep?

_“You’re lucky that Thomas’ friends are so forgiving.”_

...Maybe he was. 

He rubbed his face harshly, almost damaging his fragile scales. He was an _idiot._ Deceit could debunk every side with ease. Patton’s own words would be his downfall. He could cherry-pick facts for Logan to tell. Roman was easily moved by flattery, and often had similar ideas to Deceit anyways. Remus wouldn’t even debate, he’d just nod and agree most of the time (he’s never had a _proper_ debate with the Duke, but his arguments in his introduction video were, while flawed, notable, just a bit _too_ biased). 

But as for _him..._

Deceit could argue with _him_ by riling _him_ up. _He’d_ get sloppy, making it easy for Deceit to bring in a point that _he_ wouldn't know _how_ to combat in _his_ anger. 

Yet when it was just the two of them alone...

_“At least_ they _didn’t lie to me about any side who’s_ different! _”_  
  
_“...”_

He was rendered speechless. He could get a few mediocre, _maybe_ good points out, but none of them could sway _him_ before Deceit clammed up. Even when _he_ was clearly in the wrong, Deceit couldn’t get a word out of himself. Crushing emotions he would never admit to would jump around and bounce in his chest, every landing inflicting _more_ onto Deceit, suffocating him on nothing physical. 

And he _hated_ it. 

He was _supposed_ to be Thomas’ selfish side! The one who could give his host what he _wants._ By extension, Deceit was _supposed_ to be selfish, maybe a little uncaring and reclusive. Since _he_ just had to exist, however, Deceit couldn’t help but feel like scum over being in _his_ presence. He couldn’t help but care too much about _his_ opinions, or even try and become _close_ to _him_ again, in his own strange, argumentative way. 

Deceit told himself that he’d stop thinking about this. He’d test out the mirror some more, maybe nap, or do anything else to stay occupied. He wouldn’t dwell on the past, and he promised himself that. 

He broke his own promise as he laid back onto his bed, contemplating how everything went _wrong._

* * *

The moral side kept his eyes focused on the cartoons playing in front of him, but his cat hoodie was unfolded from his shoulders and draped across his top, his hood resting comfortably on his head. Sprawled around his legs was a heavenly soft blanket the Prince has made sometime ago. A mug of sugary hot chocolate was cradled between his hands. 

Despite the sweetness of this scene, Patton was feeling less than sweet. 

Truth be told, he was feeling pretty messy. Thomas had lied _and_ misgendered his friend, on _purpose!_ He was terrified that his normally kind and caring kiddo would stoop so low.

_“I couldn’t just tell their transphobic family they’re nonbinary!”_

Sure, Thomas shouldn’t come out for them, but he could certainly _help_ them come out! Who knew how dysphoric they could’ve felt, reading their friend misgendering them! Thomas _knew_ that people were hurt by misgendering, but he did it anyway! That wasn’t normal, that wasn’t Thomas!

_“I can’t jeopardize their relationship with their family!”_

What would there be to jeopardize? The constant transphobia that they face? That’s something that Thomas _should_ jeopardize! Why wouldn’t he just want to help his friend out of such a situation? Their family should be supportive, get rid of those horrid beliefs of theirs, and Thomas could help them do just that! He could help them see why they’re wrong, or could help his friend escape such a place if their family remains biggoted!

Or if their family is just…

_“That’s about the time that you upgraded from small nuisance to giant thorn in our side!”_

_“I think you’re just being a jerk.”_

_“How are YOU telling ME to settle into something right now when you've taken your_ sweet time _to settle into things that YOU were uncomfortable with in the past?”_

...oh, why does it matter? Patton couldn’t stop the conflicts in his _own_ family, and the mind palace is imaginary! Why should he expect Thomas to do the same for someone _else’s real_ family? 

Though, the light sides didn’t discriminate. They were generally kind and loving! Sure, sometimes there’s bumps in the road, but every conflict has been resolved at one point or another! Even when _certain_ sides try to interfere.

Even when Patton couldn’t stop said sides…

“Patton, I can practically feel the anxiety coming from you.”

He jumped slightly at the sound of Virgil’s voice, hot chocolate droplets spilling onto his blanket. He let out an exhale once he realized who it was, however, and scooted over to make his kiddo some room. “Sorry Virge, I’m just lost in thought.”

Unfortunately, the anxious side didn’t seem swayed by his explanation as he sat down. “That’s kinda obvious, Patton, but I can tell that you feel like shit.”

“Hey, language.” He was too upset to truly scold Virgil, but had he been more observant, he would’ve seen how it confused Virgil for a brief moment. 

“Err, right... anyways, what’s going on? You know that bottling it up does nothing good for you.”

He sighed, keeping his vision glued to the screen. “What isn’t going on? Thomas probably gave his friend dysphoria, I yelled at Thomas, and I’m being a hypocrite.” He stared down the marshmallows in his hot chocolate, most of them having melted into the drink by now. “He seems to think that he was protecting his friend, but why would they need protection? Why not just... get them out of that situation?” If Patton looked Virgil’s way, he would’ve seen the emo clutch his hoodie fabric tightly, squeezing it at Patton’s words. “Or maybe he could’ve changed their family’s views. I mean, with Logan as Thomas’ logic, he could surely find _some_ way to change their minds, right?”

Virgil merely shrugged, but the iron-like grip on the hoodie told a different story. “Maybe Thomas could’ve done that, but we don’t know their family Patton. For all we know, Thomas could’ve caused more trouble and danger for his friend than less.”

“How?” Patton whizzed around towards him, startled by Virgil’s words. Didn’t he agree with Patton? Or had Virgil panicked earlier because of... 

Oh gosh, he _really_ regretted yelling. Virgil lifted his hands like a guilty criminal, before stuffing them into his hoodie pockets. “I’m just saying, we don’t know their circumstances. For all we know, their family could be manipulative, aggressive, or...” he trailed off, and Patton was thankful he did. Their family could’ve been like _that?_

“Well, I think you get the point.” Patton nodded, not eager to hear anything worse. Virgil sighed, “Look, I know that you only have good intentions, but this sh— stuff, it’s more serious than it should be. It sucks, but it’s better to play it safe than be a hero.”

Once again, he merely nodded. He took a shaky breath before replying, “I... I know that. I guess it just hit a bit too close to home, somehow.”

_“Do you honestly think it’s necessary to have him here?”_

“How so, Patton?” He still hadn’t met Virgil’s gaze, too lost in memory lane. 

_“We got along just fine without him.”_

“It’s just...”

_“I thought that I would be able to... protect you from them.”_

“We didn’t save you from the dark sides in time, and look at where we are now.”

This time, Patton definitely noticed how “Virgil” tensed up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This should really be titled “consistent chapter lengths? Who’s she? Never heard of her.”
> 
> Also I saw Onward today and it’s pretty good ngl


	14. Lyin’ King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for a food mention at the end, injured Roman, dark sides being painted as unsympathetic (they aren’t but still) and a Logan who won’t stop asking questions

Deceit... wasn’t so sure how he should feel. He could feel guilt bubbling from repressed memories. Anger took the reins before he remembered the disguise he was in. Fear whispered in the darkest corners, whispered about how the dark sides will never be accepted. The guilt came back, because the green and orange ones deserved Thomas’ acceptance. But anger wasn’t finished, for it screamed and berated _him_ for _lying,_ because when were the dark sides _ever_ something for _him_ to need saving from? The other two, they chained up the anger to keep the disguise in place. 

Then sorrow and common sense took control, ending the cycle of guilt, anger, and fear. They noticed Patton’s distressed expressions and kept the performance rolling. “I’m— I’m sorry kiddo, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just—”

“It’s alright Pat.”

“But—”

“It’s **_fine._** ” 

They blinked in surprise simultaneously. Deceit... he couldn’t distort his voice. He tried sometime after _he_ learned how to do it, but nothing came from it. 

Now, it seemed to come naturally with his tension. It certainly sounded real to Patton, as he looked down and avoided Deceit’s gaze, mumbling a quiet, barely-there, “sorry.”

He gave out what he hoped was a calm sigh, though it sounded more like a sharp exhale. “Don’t be, you were just.. making a point.” He could hardly call what Patton said “a point,” since it was more or less a blatant lie from _him._ Deceit stood up, placing a comforting hand on Patton’s shoulder. It got the moral sides’ attention, as he looked up at him with glassy, unshed tears. “I’m _not_ mad at you, and neither are Logan or Roman, or even Thomas. And if Thomas was mad at you, then I’m sure that he’ll be over it before tomorrow, alright?” 

Patton gave a curt nod, as well as a watery smile, soft but almost hopeful. _Ew._ “Thanks kiddo.”

He would’ve replied with a small “no problem,” had Logan not walked into the room just then. The hoodie-clad duo turned towards the logical side, who was taking an empty bowl into the kitchen, gently placing it into the sink, before scurrying back towards the “light” sides’ rooms. 

The dad owlishly blinked, but Deceit stiffened. He didn’t want to think anything of it, but had Roman told Logan about earlier? About his brother or Deceit? He hoped Logan wouldn’t see that as a reason to storm into the dark sides’ commons, he didn’t want Remus to get scolded _again._ Purely so that Deceit wouldn’t have to be in a disguise again, Remus could _definitely_ cry without him caring.

...that thought tasted _too_ sweet for comfort.   
  
Regardless, he heard morality call out Logan’s name as he moved to watch the teacher. Logan’s only reply was entering a bright red door. Patton looked somewhat hurt by being ignored, but he merely asked, “what happened with Logan?”

Deceit, feeling far too anxious for his own good, merely shrugged. 

* * *

When Logan had found Roman earlier, he hadn’t expected to see the Prince grunting in pain while (fading, thankfully) bruises littered his skin. Royal clothes were replaced by a baggy shirt and shorts, making his whole appearance a mess. 

How had Roman become so injured so quickly? He looked perfectly fine earlier, acting as arrogant and boisterous before his sudden disappearance. No injuries were visible, and he moved perfectly fine. 

Though, his shoes _did_ seem to have a higher heel on them, despite him standing at his regular—  
  
Oh, of _course_ it was Deceit. Logan had considered the dark sides to have done _something_ earlier, but he should’ve expected the snake. With Thomas’ dilema focused on lying, it would only make sense for him to appear and defend Thomas’ deception.

That still didn’t explain the bruises. Deceit, despite being a dark side, was a manipulative and clever man, but he wasn’t aggressive. If angry, he wasn’t prone to resort to violence (though Logan didn’t know the liar well, so maybe Deceit _was_ more violent than he appeared). 

He sat down on the bed next to Roman’s sore body. That seemed to catch the Prince’s attention, as his eyes widened upon seeing Logan. “Ferris borer? What are you— ow— doing here?” His voice was somewhat raspy, almost sounding worn out. 

Logan fixed Roman with an observant look, not finding it useful to stall the subject on his mind, “did Deceit attack you? Because, from observing this, you were not present this morning.”

He seemed to falter for a bit, as if searching for an answer. “Well... Deceit didn’t do anything to me. I, uh, woke up this morning feeling far too un-princely, and I _may_ have...” He looked away from Logan, taking another moment to collect his thoughts, “...asked Deceit to take my place...”

The Prince refused to look Logan in the eye, but the teacher was too lost in thought. He remembered in Thomas’ video where he debated Virgil, that Roman was quite hurt and Patton had to care for him. The popular term “a bruised ego” seemed like a loose way of defining Roman’s dilema, but Logan hadn’t reconsidered that it was more _literal_ than he thought (it had been his original thinking upon first hearing it, but Patton had explained what it truly meant). 

And with Patton, as morality, scolding Thomas instead of helping to heal his _ego..._ No wonder Roman was so hurt. 

Though, Roman’s recounting of what had happened didn’t seem like the full story. “I highly doubt that Deceit would do a favor out of kindness. What did you have to do for him?”

At this, Roman’s whole demeanor changed. He looked enraged, maybe annoyed, as he began a rant that Logan had to suffer through, “oh, his _magnificent_ idea of a favor was having me hang out with Remus, the absolute _fiend_ I have to call a brother! After the snake left, I sat down because _obviously_ I was in pain, and Dukey decides that _that_ was a perfect time to attack me! He drags me to his side of the imagination, where he _knows_ he’s more powerful at, and immediately tries to make his Morningstar greet my head! And I’m sure Deceit told him to do that, because he came in just at the nick of time, as if he’s some _hero!_ Clearly he’s not, since he sent me out to get _assaulted!_ But he has the audacity to pretend to be surprised! As if he didn’t command Remus to attack me! We all know he orders the dark sides around anyways, so I don’t get why he thought he could _pretend,_ nor do I get how he believed he could get away with it!” 

Honestly, Logan was shocked that the Prince could say so much so loudly, especially in his weakened state. He gave Roman a soft command to sit up, which, albeit slowly, the Prince did successfully. He summoned a bowl of broth for the creative side to drink, since his already sore throat couldn’t have felt great after ranting. He drank the soup gratefully, having to slow down a bit from going too fast. 

“One more question,” he began, Roman only nodded once to indicate that he heard Logan, “why was Sleep outside of the imagination?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ferris Bueller? Ferris Borer?
> 
> Not my most clever nickname in here but oh well
> 
> Anyways, sorry I didn’t get this out sooner and that it’s a boring chapter, I didn’t have enough time to get it out earlier or make it more interesting


	15. What Am I Doing Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for snake angst about the light sides, food mention, and Roman being uncreative with nicknames

That question shouldn’t have been as puzzling for Roman as it was. Why _had_ Deceit followed him to his room?

Setting down his bowl, he stared at the broth while he contemplated. He was confident that Deceit had merely _wanted_ him to get hurt, it made sense! He was probably mad at Roman for choosing the wedding, or maybe annoyed that he had come to Deceit for a favor in the first place, so he sent Remus out! He already seemed to have a habit of bossing the Duke around, if Remus’ song indicated anything (stupid Dukey made Roman have to watch the video since he was _knocked out_ for most of it). He couldn’t understand a scenario where Deceit was content with _not_ trying to get some petty revenge on Roman, it seemed too out-of-character for the snake!

...That is, the character that Virgil painted Deceit as. 

He had no reason to believe that Virgil would lie about the liar. The emo became very defensive once Deceit was simply in a _room_ with him, so he clearly hurt Virgil in some way. Even Patton has some passive-aggressive (or fearful aggressive, in the courtroom) approach to Deceit, refusing to tolerate his ideas for Thomas. When Virgil was still considered a dark side, Patton had at least _tried_ to connect with him. With Deceit, the father figment hardly gave him the time of day. 

So, clearly, the snake was the more evil side. 

Then again, Roman had thought the same about Virgil, and that led to _nothing_ good. It made the purple side duck out, trying to erase his existence from the Thomasphere, and Roman would be _damned_ if he was responsible for any other side doing that. He didn’t want to be the villain, he was the _Prince!_ His goal was to _save_ damsels, not turn the innocent into them!

But _was_ Deceit innocent? He had everyone at his fingertips in the trial, and he kept trying to make Thomas a bad person. Roman, regretfully, had tried to do the same, but the Prince deserved _some_ credit! He’s the one who _got_ Thomas to receive such a callback, Deceit had just tried to ensure that Thomas would go. It was a once-in-a-lifetime moment, a victory and accomplishment worth risking for! 

Roman would never know if his dream was shattered beyond repair because of who his ally was, or because of his opponent’s ideals. Patton already seemed set on the wedding, even before Deceit revealed what he stood for, but he seemed downright _ashamed_ once Roman agreed with the snake. Virgil nearly seemed to return to the hateful banter the two of them once shared, and that frightened Roman. He was set on not antagonizing another side if he could help it, _especially_ Virgil, yet he couldn’t help but _loathe_ those two for tearing down Thomas (and by extension, Roman) for wanting the role of a lifetime, instead of going to his friend’s ceremony where he’d already be depressed by his loneliness (and missing a callback wouldn’t exactly bring his mood up). 

But Deceit _had_ to have been manipulating Roman, right? He encouraged the Aunt Patty excuse Roman had made. He constantly flattered Roman throughout the entire video. He was adamantly _furious_ when Roman _dared_ to go against him at the end. And when he doesn’t get what he wants, lo and behold, the _Duke,_ of all sides, appears in the next video, all per Deceit’s order. He started the video with _knocking Roman unconscious,_ and with how today’s events have piled up, there was a lot of suspicion that Deceit might want the Prince _dead._

 _“It’s_ so cool _how you never listen to Roman.”_

_“Everything has a purpose, and you’re denying yours.”_

_“I’ll take you back to the light sides.”_

Yet, the snake has shown _some_ care for the Prince, and he couldn’t understand it! If Deceit put Roman in _two_ situations where Remus could kill him, why had he stopped one when it happened? Why had he fought so hard for Roman’s dream, to the point where _lying_ to Mary Lee and Lee was more of a second option, rather than his end goal. Why did he help Roman earlier, despite gaining _nothing_ out of it? Roman didn’t even seek Remus out, and Deceit _never_ brought it up! He didn’t scold the Prince, didn’t defend Remus, absolutely _nothing_ that would fit an evil, manipulative agenda. 

“—oman? Roman, are you even listening?” Spec’s voice cut into his thoughts, making Roman’s head snap up. His eyes found the nerd’s and he could almost see the gears turning in his head, lips pursed in the way they were whenever Logan was thinking. 

“Sorry Gay-lileo, what were you saying?”

Logan rose a brow at Roman, “I asked you why was Sleep outside of the imagination.”

“Oh, he— uh,” he wanted to lie. He wasn’t keen on revealing that he allowed Deceit to follow him out of fear for _whatever_ Remus would do, but one look at analytical eyes told him how that was a stupid idea. Logan would definitely see through his excuse, so he admitted to Logan, “he was Deceit.”

* * *

Over half an hour of some Steven Universe later, Deceit was free to leave Patton alone. He could hardly stand another moment as _him,_ much less with the moral side. 

Although, it _was_ a... pleasant exchange. The fatherly figment, after awhile, started to become much more relaxed throughout the episodes. He joked with Deceit, swapping puns with the snake, and looking ecstatic every time Deceit made one unprompted. The smiles he would share were blindingly sweet, each one directed at the show, or (most of the time), Deceit. 

And when the snake announced that he’d go to _his_ room, Patton gave him a gentle hug, as well as a soft “thank you, Virge.”

In the moment, Deceit was almost frozen. Luckily, it ended nearly as quickly as it began, and Patton sent him a beaming smile, promising _him_ that “I’ll make your favorite for dinner tonight. See ya later, shnooball!” 

For his character, he had sent Patton a small smile, looking deceivingly fine, a gentle happiness painted on before he sunk out of the “light” side’s commons. Reappearing in his sanctuary of a room, however, he hastily sat down on his carpet, feeling somewhere between disgusted and... _hurt._

He can’t remember the last time _any_ of those sides looked at him with real, genuine joy. Hell, he couldn’t recall being _thanked_ by them _ever,_ or even receiving a _hug._ Sure, _he_ used to be that friendly with Deceit, but the serpentine side can’t think of those memories, or else he’ll waste time. As for the other sides...

Roman only seemed to appreciate Deceit when they talked about the Prince. As long as he was being praised, regardless if Deceit was lying or not, Roman would tolerate his _“creepy snake-face.”_

Logan would, at most, agree with something Deceit said. He’d only nod, then, if he was being generous, he’d elaborate on Deceit’s point. He shouldn’t really expect much from Logan, but the logical side would at least compliment the others if he agreed with them. 

Patton, sometimes, was a better liar than himself. He’d show enough tolerance for Deceit, so long as he stayed quiet and didn’t interrupt anything. Yet, as soon as Deceit dared to step a _toe_ out of line, Patton saw him as a threat. The passive-aggressive comments would turn into scolding, calling Deceit’s work, his purpose _wrong,_ like its shameful to be self-preservation. He only got tolerated by the moral side, so long as Patton was already in a good mood, and he didn’t act like... himself. 

When Deceit... wasn’t being Deceit.

He stood, walking over to the small nightstand by his bed, picking up the strange mirror from the drawer concealing it. Replacing the purple light was a muted yellow, faint, somewhat blending in with the orange below it. He tapped his color, feeling himself become a little shorter, the baggy feel of the hoodie melting away into his familiar caplet. Had he been less zoned-out, he would’ve seen how the yellow trim on his shirt was a bit thinner, a bit darker, his scales a bit duller.

Instead, all he could think of was how much he wouldn’t be himself. He’d still have to talk to Roman later, _somehow_ give a genuine-sounding apology as _Remus._ He’d probably have to get _him_ to think _he_ helped Patton out, despite Deceit doing all of the work. 

In short, he was gonna have to lie a _lot_ more for sides who wouldn’t care. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be better because it’s gonna be not just characters contemplating everything for once— sorry that so many chapters are like that, I promise that I’ll do better soon


	16. Oh Look, Logan!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for lots of Remus antics (specifically sex-themed nicknames), light and dark sides being seen as (slightly, like blink and you’ll miss it) unsympathetic, mentions of abandonment, and Deceit and Remus being soft for a brief moment 
> 
> Also thank you all so much for the support this fic gets because it’s unreal— each kudo, bookmark, comment, they make me so happy to know that people like this enough to read it, and I’m just so grateful for that. So— big thank to y’all—

Although Logan wasn’t the greatest at cheering others up, distracting Roman with Disney seemed to put the other in better spirits. It was clear that the Prince didn’t want to ponder on the dark sides, so he dropped the topic.

Once Roman had finally finished ranting on _“the different ways that Ariel could’ve talked to the prince— I mean come on! We aren’t mind-readers!”_ , Logan briskly walked to place his now-empty bowl in the sink. He wasn’t eager to leave the Prince alone, especially since his room had a door leading right to the imagination. He wasn’t aware of the dynamic duo on the couch, nor the call of his name from Patton. 

He arrived in the frivolous red room, but the Prince looked quite tired. He had slouched more on to his pillows, and an obnoxious yawn came out as Logan walked (slower this time) to the bed. “Do you want some sleep?”

Roman blinked blearily at him, looking ready to protest as he put a hand up, but thinking better of it as he maneuvered himself to a more comfortable position. “I’ll wake up before dinner. The dark sides are too exhausting to be around.”

His lip curled upward at that, but Logan quickly pursed his lips to suppress it. “Well, I’d imagine that getting attacked _and_ followed by those two would be tiring.”

He chucked a bit a Logan’s words, “yeah, it is. But uh,” he paused, momentarily looking away from Logan, “thanks, for checking on me.”

This time, he didn’t suppress the faint, hesitant smile. “Of course, prep. Just come up with better nicknames in the future, because Gay-lileo was _terrible._ ”

“Just for that, I’m calling you Gay-lileo forever.”

He gave a snort as Roman smirked, but he left the room shortly after, gently closing the door before walking into his own navy blue room. 

Immediately after entering, he sat down at his desk where he tended to work, jotting down everything that the Prince had told him. 

He planned to visit the dark sides later, because he had _too many_ questions. He needed to know Deceit’s motives, but he couldn’t just bluntly ask without the liar becoming more reclusive and problematic than he typically was. He’d have to also, at least, scold Remus for attacking his brother, since Deceit probably did nothing but ( _potentially_ ) take his Morningstar away. 

Logan made two separate notes. One was in Roman’s biased view, where he chastised Remus and blamed Deceit for it all. The second was a timeline, simply stating what had happened without the conspiratorial accusations. He could understand Remus’ role, the idea of the Duke being murderous was quite possible (there _had been_ a ninja-star thrown towards Logan’s forehead), but Deceit...

Whether it be from a villainous agenda, a rare act of kindness, maybe the mysterious orange side forcing Deceit to help, he had too many angles that Logan could suggest, but not have proof of.

He supposed that, after Patton and Virgil has left, he would venture off to the dark side’s half of the mindscape.   
  


* * *

  
Approximately forty-three minutes and thirty-six seconds later, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty— _sometime_ later, Logan left his room, a small notebook in his hand. Inside, he had listed several methods of interrogating Deceit, and a few for the Duke. 

The Duke was easy enough to handle. Don’t stifle his ideas, let him tire himself out, and remember that his power is limited to what you give him. Since he acted like a child, Remus was to be treated as one. He knew that the Duke would eventually get bored or tire himself out to exhaustion, so he wasn’t worried about meeting the other royal. 

Deceit, on the other hand…

Logan had some ideas on what to do. Maybe allowing Deceit to ramble will make him accidentally spill his motives. Perhaps he had to grow some trust from the snake (though, if that were the case, it would be _highly_ inconvenient). Maybe he’d have to pressure the liar, play a “bad cop”-esque role to get _anything_ out of Deceit. 

Essentially, Logan wasn’t sure _what_ he should do, and Logan _hated_ being unsure. 

Looking around, he saw that no one was nearby except for Patton, but the aspiring-father had his back facing the dark and light side’s barrier for a door. _Perfect._ Briskly walking over to the door, he twisted the handle, a navy glow emanating from his touch. He stepped inside and quietly shut the door, glancing around the dark side’s commons as he did so.

Honestly, he felt pretty lucky to have his notebook, as the Duke was on the couch, straddling the back cushions. _“Logan?”_ exclaimed Remus, staring at Logan in bewilderment, “Why are _you_ here?”

He gave a small sigh, realizing that, while the Duke would _eventually_ leave him alone, he’d still have to endure Remus’ loud behavior. “I’m here to see Deceit, do you know where he is?” 

Maniac eyes narrowed at him, clearly becoming defensive. “Funny you say that, I thought he was with you fleshlights, since last time I—”

“I’m _not_ here.” Both green and blue turned towards the yellow side, with a _crack_ sound coming from the Duke. Remus immediately lit up and bounced over to the other side. Logan, however, noticed some new details on the snake. His scales looked a little duller, less vibrant than the sage green they typically were. The yellow trim on his shirt was a bit thinner, and mimicked the scales with looking less lively.

Logan couldn’t examine the snake for long, however, as Remus squished the liar in a hug that nearly made Logan grimace. _Emotions,_ the bane of his existence.   
  


* * *

  
Truly, Deceit wished that he could’ve brooded more in his room. He was only in there for a few minutes before Remus’ obnoxious voice announced Logan’s presence. At this point, he may never get to Roman in time for his earlier lie to stand. 

Walking out of his room, he felt surprisingly less anxious than he did earlier, but that could’ve just been the weird mirror at work. He sauntered out of his room, his typical smirk no where to be seen. He didn’t have the energy to give off the confidence he normally did, but he could easily turn his tiredness into indifference. 

Standing in the front of their room’s hallway, he said “I’m _not_ here.” Cringing internally at how monotone he sounded, he was simply relieved when the two sides looked towards him, only to be less relieved when Remus, because of _course_ he would turn his head in a perfect 180° angle, had a loud _crack_ sound come from his neck. 

Grinning, the side with a broken neck healed himself with a snap of his fingers, before bouncing over to Deceit. “Double Dick!” he exclaimed, almost immediately in front of the serpentine side, “Where were you? You’ve been gone for hours.” The joy in Remus’ eyes dimmed for a moment, making Deceit feel a twinge of guilt. He _knew_ how Remus loathed loneliness, he should’ve at _least_ invited the Duke to sit in silence with him earlier.

Though, that also would’ve led to _him_ confronting the Duke, and he didn’t want Remus to feel more guilty over “light” sides than necessary.

“I just arrived in my room a few minutes ago, but I promised your brother that I’d help Patton feel better.” he wouldn’t tell a harmful lie to Remus, especially since he trusted the Duke with the knowledge of his lie-detecting-snake eye. He saw the Duke’s gaze flicker towards said eye, looking content with seeing a circular-like pupil. 

With his grin expanding just slightly, Remus pulled Deceit into one of his bone-crushing hugs, giving him a silent message of gratitude. With how much abandonment Remus has felt, he would always give some message to thank the yellow or orange sides for merely staying, as sad as that is.

Deceit hugged back, much gentler, granted, but he simply stayed in that content bubble with Remus, forgetting the world and its troubles for a moment.

Before a rude “ahem” stole their attention away, making the duo pull apart as if they hadn’t just been a bit too soft with each other. Logan looked down (or up, for Remus) at them both, inscrutable eyes forever analyzing them. “Deceit, may I speak with you alone for awhile?”

He could see Remus tense up slightly from beside him, but a gloved hand on his shoulder relaxed the personified rat. “Depends, what do you want to talk about?”

The annoyed tilt of Logan’s brow made Deceit smirk a bit, “I just have some questions to ask. I assure you that this should take, at the very most, an hour.”

Remus looked uncomfortable, glaring at the logical side as he spoke, only tensing up more at Deceit’s response. 

“So, an interrogation? Fine, I have _nothing_ to hide.”

His snake pupil was a thin slit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look we finally get some Demus :D
> 
> I would’ve wrote more but this was getting longer than I wanted it to, so I guess the next chapter is like a part-two to this one


	17. I Missed The Part Where I Said That

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for mentions of assault, mentions of kinks and balls being put into a blender (because Remus), a bad headache, and me changing the summary because this story is going in a direction I hadn’t originally planned for

It took some convincing to get Remus to leave. The Duke seemed insistent that he should be there, because “he’s a _light side!_ He could try to cut your balls off and put them in a blender! Do you want your two or four balls in a blender, Deceit?”  
  
But, miraculously, the Duke eventually left them alone, after Deceit constant reassurance that “I _can’t_ handle myself, and why in the world would they put my balls in a blender—?” “Because they’re the light sides, we don’t know their kinks!”

Once Remus had finally gone to his room, Deceit sat in his self-proclaimed armchair, leaving the couch open for Logan. He hesitantly sat down, eyes flickering across the room for a moment before facing Deceit. The serpentine side noticed the small notebook Logan held, raising a brow at it.

“Are you going to take notes too? How thorough of you.”

“If you think being snarky is going to help you here, I assure you that it won’t.”

He rolled his eyes, crossing both his arms and one leg over the other, posed like some cartoon villain. “I didn’t know that I needed help.”

Logan stayed resolute, unmoving as he stared down Deceit. “Roman made some serious accusations against both you and Remus. I merely wanted to give you both a chance to explain yourselves.”

Deceit would be lying (as he does) if he said that Roman complaining surprised him. He just hadn't expected Logan to want to get more than Roman’s side, nor could he fully trust Logan’s motives. Thomas’ favorite sides hardly give the “evil” sides the time of day, and only _now_ does one of them decide to give the darks some attention? There _had_ to be something more to his interrogation than just wanting Remus and Deceit’s testimony. 

Regardless, his composure never wavering. “Alright, ask your questions.”

Logan opened up the notebook, flipping through a few pages before landing on his desired one. “First, why did you fulfill Roman’s request to impersonate him?”

So that Remus could hang out with his twin. He fought the urge to shake his head at such a thought, since he _definitely_ didn’t care about Remus and Roman’s bond. Obviously. 

“Why _would_ I? It’s not like I talk to Thomas _often_ or anything.”

“You weren’t present last night, when Thomas had lied to his friend’s family?”

Oh not this again. He could understand _some_ guilt over this fiasco, but at this point it felt ridiculous. Thomas’ friend hadn’t confronted him about it, nor has he had any interaction with those bigots since last night. The problem, at least to him, should be resolved by now. 

“I _totally_ need to be present in order for Thomas to lie. I’d thought that you’d know _nothing_ about how sides function.” 

Logan didn’t make a verbal reply, he hastily jotted down some notes onto his page. “What did you hope to gain from sending Roman to his brother?”

“Is that any of your concern?”

“Seeing as Remus tried to harm Roman, I’d say that it _is._ ”

“And you believe that Remus _can_ control that?” He glared at Logic, but otherwise remained still. “Tell me, does Roman ever have creative outbursts that he _doesn’t_ have to act on? Does he, perhaps, _never_ do something you all find odd, yet he has no explanation for it?”

He took pride in the subtle eye widening from Logan. He looked surprised, but his furrowed brows brought a wave of suspicion in his eyes. “How did you know—”

“Did you consider that, as both intrusive thoughts and creativity, Remus _wouldn’t_ behave the same way? Did you ever think of how _easy_ it is to control such urges, especially with having two functions influence him?” Realization had dawned on Logan as Deceit spoke, but the serpent had one last question for the logical side.

“Have any of you even wondered about Roman’s own impulses that _haven’t,_ and still _don’t_ confuse him, or did you all brush off this repeating behavior of his?”

_Gross,_ there was the brief look of guilt again, this time on Logan. He seemed to space out a bit at the last question, as he hesitated from taking more notes. For a moment, he didn’t look up once he had finished, instead staring down at his notebook, maybe finding something _absolutely incredible_ in his notes. “I do not believe that Roman knows that that's a side-effect of his job.”

He didn’t care, he _truly_ didn’t. It wasn’t his problem that the light sides couldn’t help their creativity. It wasn’t his problem that Roman deals with similar urges to Remus, only to be seen as weird for them rather than as creativity. It wasn’t his problem to be annoyed by, because he _didn’t_ care about the help the Prince would have received, had he and Remus been allowed to be the brothers they were. He didn’t care in the least. _Not. At. All._

...he wished that he couldn’t taste his own lies.

“Next question, I’m sure that you have _nothing_ more to ask before Remus gets concerned.”

“Right.” clearing his throat, Logan either didn’t realize that Deceit completely dodged the question, or he just didn’t bring it up, thankfully. “Do you have any intentions of harming Roman?”

Well, that was… a bit blunt for such a question. “What in the world would I gain from having him hurt?”

“You have put him in two situations now where Remus has attempted to hurt him. While you have brought up a point to explain the most recent example, Remus _did_ start off his introduction video by asking a question about fratricide, before knocking his brother out with a morningstar.” 

He sighed, annoyed by these questions. He was _really_ starting to regret helping Roman out, since _apparently_ Deceit wants the Prince to be _assaulted._ “Look, if I truly wished Roman harm, I _would_ waste time helping him and I would _certainly_ send Remus to do the job for me. On the topic of jobs, it’s _not_ a part of mine to protect the ego, which falls under Roman’s secondary role as pride.”

Logan had to pause for a minute to translate the lies. “So it’s just a coincidence that two similar situations have happened in which _you_ placed the twins in the same room, only to have both result in Roman getting injured by Remus, who had implied fratricide before one of them?”

“Coincidences _never_ occur, Logan.” Deceit had to spit the words out through false indifference, while he was fuming inside. “Besides, Remus _hadn’t_ told all of you that I sent him because Thomas wanted to be _a liar._ ”

With that, Deceit stood, catching Logan off-guard. “Where are you going? It’s hardly been an hour.”

He didn’t dignify Logan with a response. 

“...and I cannot open this side of the door.”

Oh, right, he hadn’t (nor would) given Logan permission. Sighing, he turned towards the door and removed one glove, hiding it from Logan’s view. He twisted the knob and opened the door a little harsher than necessary, the yellow glow barely given a moment to shine. Logan went through the door, but turned once he was half-way through the frame. 

“I still don’t know why you helped him, Deceit. If you’re willing, I’d like to continue—”

“ _Yes._ ” was all that the serpentine side could muster, before shutting the door quickly enough to force Logan out of the dark side’s home. With the logical side now gone, Deceit allowed himself to shake in rage, shoving his glove on roughly, and indulge in the anger that had been bubbling up. 

What gave Roman the _right_ to blame Deceit for Remus’ actions? He was more than aware of his reputation among the light sides, but he never thought that they despised him enough to accuse him of wanting them _harmed,_ especially from _Roman._ He had hoped that Roman, at _least,_ could see eye-to-eye with him, maybe even tolerate him, but apparently _not!_ Apparently Deceit just wants him to be… 

…

What was he thinking about again? 

Oh, right, the interrogation from Logan. He had asked Deceit about Roman, and why he had helped him. What had followed was… was… 

Ah, he had shined a light on how the others failed to notice Roman’s creative urges. He let a small smirk grace his lips, since he _finally_ brought up a truth that the favorite sides couldn’t ignore. _Good,_ maybe they’ll listen to his observation if Logan repeated it. 

Granted, the logical side may never bring it up, but it was nice to pretend that he would. 

* * *

  
Immediately after Logan was forced out of the dark side’s commons, he felt like his goal was still incomplete. He never did get an answer for Deceit’s motives, but now he may not have another chance. The snake seemed indifferent to the questions, so his sudden standing confused Logan to no end. He didn’t know if he had offended the liar, or if the other had merely become bored, but he figured that he should be more observant of Deceit. He didn’t recognize any signs of Deceit wanting out of the conversation, so he’d have to be more careful when addressing the snake. 

He looked around to find none of the light sides in the commons, and he sighed in relief. He didn’t want to explain _why_ he was with the dark sides, since he’d just cause Patton and Virgil unnecessary stress. He headed to his room, about to jot down some notes, only for his pen to suddenly fall. 

A massive headache overtook him. 

He gritted his teeth and held his forehead to deal with the growing pain. Where in the _world_ had this come from? He wasn’t sick, he shouldn’t—

As quickly as the pain arrived, it had disappeared. He blinked owlishly, before looking down at his notebook. That… was extremely questionable. Was he coming down with something? He was careful with his hygiene, and kept himself reasonably healthy, so he shouldn't become ill anytime soon, unless another side was sick and contagious.

Logan brushed off the issue for now, he couldn’t worry about minor debacles. He had notes to go over and analyze for future reference when dealing with the snake.   
  
With that, he strode over to his room, ready to work.   
  


* * *

  
As soon as he unleashed his trick, he collapsed onto the ground. 

The subconscious had definitely weakened him over the years, and Logan was far too resistant. It only reminded him of how frail he was, how _damaging_ failure would be. 

But once he saw that he had succeeded, he grinned. Two wisps of yellow and navy entered his prison of a home, with faint accusations and defensive words against hurting the Prince coming from them each. They floated towards their new homes, their ends slowly being lined with pink. 

Content with the wisps’ presence, he relaxed slightly. It wouldn’t do him any favors if Deceit couldn’t or wouldn’t help the others, and Virgil was already a lost cause for the snake. He’d have to monitor the liar a little more, even as exhaustion creeped up on him like an unwanted friend. 

He brushed off the desire to sleep, he didn’t have time to deal with it. Shakily, he stood up, somehow succeeding despite his sluggish movements. He _was_ going to come back, he _had_ to. 

At this point, it was all he _could_ do.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that’s happening


	18. I’ll Always Be Apart of You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for lots of sexual jokes and nicknames, mentions of dissecting animals, mentions of animal cruelty, mentions of cannibalism, mentions of poisoning, LOTS of food mentions, past violence at the end (stuff from chapter 6), brief suf spoilers (kinda), basically it’s Remus being Remus, also minor Demus but that’s expected, Deceit swears, 
> 
> And an importantish A/N at the end

Walking down their room’s hallway, Deceit had honestly planned on taking a nap. He was too tired to deal with the Prince, and truth be told, he wasn’t sure how to approach Roman about it. The other royal was reasonably upset about Remus’ attack, but it’d be hard to act as the Duke while explaining his creative impulses to Roman. He’d have to say something gruesome enough to sound like Remus, whilst not frightening or enraging the Prince. 

... _god,_ this was a bit too much work. He wouldn’t deny that he liked being so useful for once, but he could _really_ use a nap. Thankfully, he was almost through his doorframe, his room already at a comfortable temperature for his cold-blooded traits, his bed untouched from his moping hour, and—

“Ga-boob Viper!”

Oh, he forgot the Duke was waiting for him. Tiredly, he turned around, ending up face-to-face with the literal trash can. “Hello Remus, and I _am_ a Gaboon Viper.”

“Damn, I thought I finally guessed it.” 

He smirked fondly, but if one were to point it out, Deceit would deny it. “Y’know, I have mentioned that they could be any animal’s scales.”

The Duke gave him a fake pout, “that doesn’t give me any clues! You know that’s too broad to be a lie!”

“Exactly why I say it.”

They did a mocking-glare at each other for a few moments, having no real vile behind it, before they erupted into _chortles,_ as Remus would call it. He felt stupid to be rendered into a giggling, childish side over one crude joke, but with how easily Remus could make him laugh, it was a stupidity he was used to. 

“Anyways, Porn Snake—”

“My colors are nothing like a Corn Snake’s.”

“—ugh, _anyways,_ you forgot to check on orgasm today.”

Deceit raised a brow in confusion. “Who is that, exactly?”

“Y’know, OwO? O’Riley Auto Parts? Omegle? Annoying Orange—”

At the mention of the color, Deceit’s eyes widened. _Shit,_ how could he have forgotten about the orange side? He knew that he had to check up on him, with how reclusive his friend has become over the “light” sides. 

Remus dismissively waved his hand at Deceit’s visible panic. “Don’t worry, I’ve been checking on him while you were gone. He’s doing alright, he’s just concerned about your absence.”

He gave a small, relieved exhale, “I _haven’t_ been gone for very long, Remus.”

“You’ve been out and about for twelve hours, pen-hiss. Speaking of which, if you change the hours to inches then—”

Remus’ words faded into background noise as the words sunk in. It couldn’t have been /that/ long, right? He had to have been quicker than _twelve hours._ Sure, helping Thomas took all night, and Roman’s ordeal happened not long after, but…

...ok, so _maybe_ he had spent too much time away from the only kind sides in Thomas’ head, but it was hardly intentional. The favorite sides just so happen to be _too incompetent_ to handle their own problems, and he couldn’t let the sides with the most influence on Thomas be in too much of a dilema, or else Thomas gets affected. It had _nothing_ to do with his own want to be useful, for once.

“I hadn’t noticed the time.”

He also hadn’t noticed that he said that out loud, but he did hear the Duke’s words momentarily pause. He had to nearly avoid the hands that waved around as Remus spoke. “Aren’t you observant of everything, like someone who’s astral-projecting while they watch cannibals come into their house and eat their toes?”

Deceit gave a light chuckle at the, albeit lackluster (he’s heard better, or rather _worse_ from the Duke) simile. “I guess I’m just more tired today.” 

“Well _clearly!_ ” exclaimed Remus, arms flailing out in exasperation, before his eyes got that glimmer of inspiration, or murder, both expressions looked eerily similar on the Duke. “Ooo, y’know what we could do? We could have a mukbang with anything we want! We could eat the couch, a door, the meat in my room that I have yet to identify the source of, anything!” 

He couldn’t help but snort at the idea. Being imaginary, they _could_ do something akin to that, and although none of those options sounded appetizing to Deceit, they did give the liar an idea. 

“Maybe not a mukbang, but we could binge some stupid show and have some edible snacks.” Despite his emphasis on edible, the grin that Remus gave him with the suggestion ignited some weird (and oddly reoccurring) fondness inside him, like a trick candle that burned without permission. 

How _disgusting_ of him.

“I’ll get my laptop!” True to his word, the Duke had ran off into his grotesque room, and Deceit headed into the kitchen. The coffee he had made earlier this morning sat untouched in his mug, making him slightly disappointed. Maybe he should’ve just asked Roman for some more coffee, it would’ve be quicker than Remus trying to make his own that _wasn’t_ poisoned. 

He opened up their pantry, grimacing at how little they have inside. There were plenty of canned foods for about a month, some uncooked noodles, and a few bags of (probably stale) chips. Technically, they could all just create their own food, but his trio wasn’t exactly great at that. Creating _anything_ took up more energy from orange and himself, since creativity wasn’t in their function, and Remus was almost as drained as they were when he had to concentrate on making edible, non-poisonous-or-disturbing nourishments. 

Now, he just regretted not asking Roman for extra _food._

He grabbed four bags of Doritos and a can of beans (because Remus considered the can to be “dipping sauce with diarrhea inside”), now leaving them with three bags of chips left for his friends. He walked towards the couch and dumped the food onto it, before summoning a bowl of popcorn. It wasn’t his wisest decision, since he immediately had to sit down from the overuse of his powers. He was already growing exhausted from the disguises of today, but Remus couldn’t be doing much better after such a harmful impulse earlier _and_ checking on orange.

Truth be told (ironically enough), he felt _awful_ about forgetting said side. Due to some overwhelming distrust of the light sides, he wouldn’t even go by his _function_ anymore, choosing instead to be referred to by his color. Of course, he and the Duke respected orange’s wishes, but the fact that orange wanted that in the first place was… concerning, to say the least. Like most dark sides (Remus being an exception), he was already sensitive about his name, but that secrecy became worse as _he_ left, and seemed to increase as Remus and Deceit became more known. Of course, the lime duo always informed orange when they would leave, and returned as soon as possible. He and his fellow “dark” sides were essentially trapped together due to their circumstances, but now that they could leave, staying became an obvious choice. 

Deceit regretted not alerting anyone that he’d be gone. Maybe he could pass off leaving for Thomas, since they only exist to help him, but he _could’ve_ said something before leaving as Roman. He should’ve gone and talked to orange instead of getting lectured by _him,_ or at least said hi to his secluded friend instead of mope around in his room. 

Before his pitiful thoughts could continue, the _clank_ and _thump_ of wood falling and being hit filled their hallway for a moment, as feet hitting the ground came closer and closer to Deceit, excitement in every move. He couldn’t fight the faint smile that Remus somehow always gave him, though he also couldn’t say that it bothered him. 

“What’s got you so eager?” His eyes stayed on the Duke as the other bounced onto the couch, the intro to a show already playing on screen. 

Remus’ grin seemed to beam with mischief at the question, already munching on the atrocity that is beans and Doritos. Mouth full of food, he answered with “it’s Steven Universe Future! The darker subjects that the show is going with right now? Those are my shit!” 

With the laptop between them, snacks for each of them (including a can of beans, unfortunately), and not being 5 feet apart since they’re very gay, the duo ended up watching the cartoon for the next hour or so. With this being the longest he’s been out of disguise for the day (outside of moping), it felt like a breath of fresh air to just, for a moment, let his guard down. He could finally relax, not having to lie through every action and word. 

Even with the sound of beans, popcorn, and Doritos being munched on together in an unholy fusion.   
  


* * *

  
The note he had hastily wrote was stuck to Remus’ laptop. He, sadly, still had a job to do for the twins, so while he’d like to just relax on the couch for the rest of the day, he didn’t have the time to do so. 

He noticed that around two hours had passed since Logan butted into his commons, so Patton _had_ to have left his own commons by then. The favorite sides were likely in their rooms, and Remus had fell asleep at some point, so Deceit figured that it’d be best for him to leave now, while he wouldn’t get caught. 

Briefly entering his own room, he picked up the mirror from where it resides under his pillow. He’d find a better place to keep it later, but his pillow _was_ pretty convenient for now. 

He tapped his thumb onto the green sword intertwined with tentacles and vines, somewhat getting used to the feeling of foreign memories flooding his head. 

  
_Small scenes of what appeared to be a meat factory entered his vision, only to realize that, instead of cow corpses hanging from the ceiling, they were_ alive, _yet very much dissected. He couldn’t tell if he wanted more gore in the room, or if he’d rather expand like a dick on the “alive” aspect of the cows. His hands rubbed with glee as he debated, this was going to be one if his more_ detailed _rooms, something orange has admitted to favoriting in the past._

_His vision changed quickly to flickers of the commons, of grass, of red, so many bruises, his shiny Morningstar in the corner of his eye. As much as he was there, the whole memory was flickering in-and-out, as if it was sand slipping through his hands. He didn’t want to do this, but his wants held no power over his mind, nor the thoughts that reassure him that he_ must. _It ended with wide eyes staring at him, dread and frustration in those eye’s very color._

_A look of pure, unfiltered_ fright _surrounding his twin, his own haunting cackle ringing in the background._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SORRY I DIDN’T UPDATE IN TIME ACK—
> 
> I’ve been busy due to the online school that I’m being put in during the quarantine, and since the whole setup of it is confusing, I’ve been trying to work that out. I’m probably not gonna be very consistent with the 3-day schedule that I’ve been doing for this fic, so I’m sorry about that too
> 
> ALSO— ABOUT THE ORANGE SIDE :  
> I’m keeping him as anonymous as possible. I’m only doing this because I know what people have their own oc’s of him and their own theories, so I don’t wanna get in between those and would rather have y’all be able to let his function be whatever works for your own headcanons/characters, just an fyi


	19. You Had Your Mind Made Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for sexual innuendos, poison and food mentions, extremely brief referencing to transphobia (not really? I’m mentioning it just in case), a poop nickname, and offended Princey noises not being called offended Princey noises, lemme know if I’m missing anything because I think I did

Roman wasn’t aware of how long he’d been asleep for, but waking up felt like a heaven-sent _blessing._ Most of his bruises from that morning were gone, only leaving the ones that Remus gave him (which, thankfully, hurt a lot _less_ than the former). 

He sat up from his bed and rubbed his eyes, feeling absolute peace settle around him. Maybe he could go into the imagination, he felt much more alive than he had earlier, and now he had the energy to defend himself _properly,_ so—

_Knock knock knock._

The Prince frowned a bit at his door, confused. That didn’t sound like any of the others knocks, nor was there any reason for them to come in. Since he was too calm in the moment, however, the idea of this person being someone other than his fellow light sides didn’t cross his mind, making him say, “come in!” 

“I’d rather not do that here, actually. But _I’d be fine with it in the imagination!_ ” Roman backed up, sword already in hand as his _menace_ of a brother walked into his room, shutting the door behind him. 

“What are _you_ doing here? Didn’t you terrorize me enough today?” He saw no hesitation on his brother’s face as he moseyed on over to the foot of his bed, sitting down on it without a care in the world. Guess he’d have to burn these sheets later, who _knows_ where Remus has been. 

“Actually, Lion Dingus, I came here— not literally— to apologize.” 

He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the poor joke, but the idea of his brother apologizing was _preposterous!_ He’s never done so in the past, their arguments always ended in silence from both of them until they talked a week later, at the very least. Why was now any different? 

“Do you expect me to believe that?” 

Remus merely shrugged “nah, but I thought it was worth saying anyways.”

“...why?” He lowered his sword a smidge, because he couldn’t understand his motives. Was this, perhaps, a trick? Some sort of phase in a diabolical plan meant to take down Roman and his friends? Was this even his brother’s motives, or was he merely working for the _snake?_

The Duke rolled his eyes, as if the answer was so simple. “Because _I’m_ sorry! I know that _I_ need better control on _my_ impulses, but that doesn’t excuse _my_ actions!” then, completely out of the blue, Remus looked down in front of him, somewhat _timidly._ “so— yeah, I’m sorry.”

Roman was too conflicted about this. On one hand, he wanted to just forgive Remus right then and there. Seeing the unashamed, obnoxious royal sit before him apprehensively was almost more disturbing than the darker creativity Remus possesed. Yet, on another hand, he was too suspicious of the Duke to completely believe him. What would’ve made this attack different from the others they’ve had in the past? Why would this instance affect the Duke, when their other fights have been brushed off before? 

Instead of asking anything on his mind, however, Roman dodged the entire apology, not quite ready to confront it yet. “What impulses, Remus?”

To that, the Duke looked up, head tilted in unsureness. “Uh, the creative— and sometimes intrusive for _me_ — urges that _we_ get?”

Now it was Roman’s turn to cock his head “...what?”

“Y’know, when you end up doing something weird because it seems right in the moment, but by the time you do it it's just strange? Like how one time _I_ was able to help make dinner, but then _I_ thought that poisoning the garlic bread was a good idea, but it’s weird to do that when _I_ could’ve just poisoned the pasta, since not everyone eats the garlic bread!”

Well, Roman couldn’t relate to poisoning dinner, of all things, but he can’t deny experiencing something similar. There’s been way too many times in his life where, for absolutely _no_ reason besides a mere instinct, he’s created or done things on a whim. He could still recall the confusion on his fellow side’s faces when he altered their outfits without warning, or created a creature to follow them, or oddly enough summoned them all into the imagination for some random idea he’d never remember thinking of. 

He never realized that was a part of his function, nor had he ever considered that _Remus_ went through something similar. 

But Remus’ creativity was _harmful._ His didn’t revolve around fairytales and “happily ever after”s, his was… _horrid._ The idea of him having the same instincts Roman did, especially with the lack of self-control and the ideals his brother already had… 

_”Why not? That's life! People seeing, hearing, and experiencing things they'd rather not see, hear, or experience.”_

_”There is no rhyme or reason to what I do. I just do! And what I DO is wreak havoc!”_

Roman didn’t want to think _too much_ about it.

He sighed, finally setting his sword down, keeping a firm grip on it. “Well, it _was_ still your fault, whether it was because of some… impulse or not.” He looked away from Remus, not willing to see how regretful the Duke was, “but, since I don’t think that you _wanted_ to hurt me, I…” he didn’t see Remus perk his head up, since Roman was still conflicted. Was he _really_ about to forgive the Duke for _assaulting_ him? He had wanted to bash Roman’s head in with his Morningstar! He probably wouldn’t have hesitated if Deceit didn’t step in! 

Yet, if Remus truly _did_ get some sort of impulse, influenced from his explicit creativity, or Zeus forbid his _intrusive thoughts..._ If those were as hard to control as he claimed...

“...I forgive you, poop-diepie.”

For a moment, silence stretched between them. It was only broken when Remus started laughing, his familiar cackle sounding less maniacal, more… relieved. 

He didn’t know who moved first, and Remus probably didn’t either, but Roman was in a sudden bone-crushing (not literally, _thankfully_ ) hug with his twin, his sword already vanished into thin air.

* * *

Remus owed him _so much_ for this.

He felt so out-of-place. This wasn’t his conversation to have, his apology to give, or his hug to be in. _The Duke_ should be here, not himself! 

Sure, Roman wouldn’t be able to tell the difference, and neither would Remus, but intruding and participating in a moment that’s meant exclusively for both creativities, something he shouldn’t even _know_ about… 

It felt so _wrong._

When they had _finally_ pulled away, Roman looked less tense than he was earlier. His shoulders weren’t hitched-up , his eyes weren’t in a wide, angry glare, and the corners of his lips were slightly pointed upward. “Y’know, if you’d like, we could hang out for a bit and watch some Disney? Patton probably won’t start on dinner for awhile, so...?” 

He didn’t get a chance to reply, since the familiar tugging sensation came to him abruptly. “That’s weird…”

Roman cocked his head “what is?”

“Someone’s trying to summon me! It’s probably _Deceit,_ I kinda left the commons without warning, like a dad going out for milk!”

It wasn’t himself, obviously, but he was too surprised by the fact that he was getting summoned at _all,_ more so _who_ was summoning him. 

When he looked at the Prince, his expression seemed depressingly disappointed. “Oh, don’t worry Alfred Bitch-cock! I’ll be back before you know it!”

The offended Princey noises Roman made were, admittedly, stupidly funny. “How _dare_ you! Now I take back my forgiveness!” He dramatically crossed his arms and looked away, but he could see the Prince try to fight away a smile. He felt himself laugh, effortlessly bringing in a cackling noise when he’d normally fight his vocal cords for such a sound. 

The tugging came back, this time more insistent. 

“There’s my cue again, bye!!”

With that, the snake sunk out, reaching behind him to grab the mirror tucked into his belt.   
  


* * *

  
Rising up, he found himself in Thomas’ living room, his protecee sitting on the couch, staring at his phone with a look of relief. Deceit tilted his head, finding no reason to be here. 

“Is there a reason you summoned me, Thomas?”

The mentioned man looked up at Deceit, giving the liar a _grin,_ something he’d normally give to the favorited sides. “Deceit, you’re amazing!”

He blinked. Then blinked again, his eyes wide when they were open. 

... _what??_

“Thomas, are you feeling alright?” He was too scared to taste the air for lies, too frightened to let this be a mistake on Thomas’ part. Too hopeful for his own good. 

The not-metaphysical human nodded his head, “never been better! My friend— from last night— they’re not mad at me! They actually were relieved that they weren’t outed to their family!”

It was almost unsettling to see Thomas so happy about the outcome of a lie. Normally he was worried out of his mind, or he was already spilling the truth out. Now, he was _ecstatic,_ comforted by his friend validating his deception. 

If it wasn’t such an abnormal sight, he’d be swelling with pride. 

Deceit composed himself back into his suave attitude, paired with his distrustful smirk. He’d rather not be standing around in shock for this whole interaction, “I’m glad to hear that, Thomas. If that was all you needed, then—”

“Actually, I, uh, may need your help again…” Thomas wasn’t looking him in the eyes now, instead finding the phone screen to be quite an intriguing sight, “I’m supposed to edit the next sanders sides episode with Joan tomorrow, but with how exhausting all of today’s worrying has been—”  
  
“You _don’t_ want me to lie to Joan so that you can have a break?” He rose a brow at Thomas, staring down the real-and-not-imaginary-person’s sheepish expression. “Thomas, you are aware that they’d understand if you wanted a day off, right? Surely my help is _absolutely_ mandatory?” 

Thomas’ shoulders slumped a bit, his cheeriness deflating. His protectee wasn’t even looking at his phone anymore, instead just glancing away from Deceit entirely. He almost felt bad, prepared to smooth it over with false comfort, but Thomas spoke up, “I— I know that, but, obviously excluding my worrying and whatnot, I actually enjoyed hanging out with you last night. I wanted to do it again, but with the obvious tension between you and the other four, I didn’t know how to make it happen without them being suspicious, so…” _you made up an excuse for me to be summoned._

The words were unsaid, but they hung in the air regardless. He couldn’t taste any sweetness in Thomas’ explanation, in fact every word tasted like the bitter _truth_ _,_ much to his surprise. Thomas wanted to, _genuinely,_ just spend time with Deceit. He had unintentionally made a good impression on his protectee, so much so that Thomas was _making up an excuse_ to simply hang out with him. He wasn’t considering the other’s feelings towards the liar as a fact, now they were merely obstacles Thomas had tried to avoid, for _Deceit._

He’d be lying if he said that this rather unbelievable scenario wasn’t inflating his ego, but then again, lying was kinda his thing. His thing that Thomas wasn’t, for once, fearing or reprimanding. 

Chuckling softly, he looked at Thomas with the coy expression he gave to almost everyone (orange and Remus we’re clear exceptions), “Thomas, if you only wanted to see little-old-me, you could’ve just said so.”

* * *

Thomas wasn’t apart of his plan, he wasn’t even a factor he’d _considered._ Yet, he was proving to be a valuable tool for him. 

If he could make this routine repeat… cause this to become a constant cycle for Deceit, so to speak, then maybe… 

A grin broke out, the first one to do so in _years_ that wasn’t bittersweet. Maybe he could come back sooner than planned. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m probably gonna change from updating every 3 days to every 4 days because quarantine has made me tired and unmotivated to do anything
> 
> Plus online school but I wanna forget that exists
> 
> Also I’m too proud of the nickname “Alfred bitchcock” but to any and all Alfred Hitchcock fans I‘m sorry


	20. It’s Clear You All Won’t Listen To Reason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for drug and intruder and boobs and food mention, tiny mention of religion (basically the ending line for forbidden fruit), basically Remus shenanigans, a tired snake who wants to sleep, talk of neglect, basically some internal deceit angst.

He woke up with a groan, remembering far too late how uncomfortable their couch was to sleep on. He hears a _thud_ and _crack,_ but Remus hardly registered it. He’s too spaced-out after sleeping, feeling like a anvil crushed through his entire body while he was on drugs— oh, that’d be exciting to test out, he’d have to go to the imagination later and—

Softly, as gross as that word is, he shook his head. Rambling to himself about _whatever_ wouldn’t help him in his temporary sleepiness. He looked around the couch for a bit, finding his laptop burying itself alive screen-down into the carpet, as well as a bowl with empty bags, un-popped kernels, and a vacant can within. Wasn’t there something missing? He could’ve sworn that someone else was—

Oh lord— _Deceit!_ How’d he slither away again so quickly? 

His eyes flickered to their clock on the wall, finding that something akin to four hours had passed. Ah, maybe Deceit got tired of him. He wouldn’t be surprised if he had, he’s just grateful that the serpentine side stuck around for as long as he did. 

Sighing, he picked up their leftover trash and munched on the empty bags while putting the bowl in the sink. Might as well make himself _somewhat_ useful before heading to his room. Maybe he’d redecorate, Remus had been wanting to make something new for his room since right now, so he might as well. 

The Duke mumbled his song as he strolled back to the couch, only now realizing that he broke his computer screen sometime earlier. Was that the noise from earlier? Or had it been an intruder? Could they even _have_ intruders? He’d probably be the mindscape’s intruder out of anyone, since he is _intrusive_ thoughts, but the idea of an intruder was _exciting!_ Oh, maybe his room could be set up as the perfect trap for intruders! It could look normal, but then he’d add secret booby (haha, tits) traps, or maybe it’s a room full of money but the money acted like that monster book from _Harry Potter!_

He was bouncing with ideas by the time he sprinted into his room, his theme trailing behind him.

“‘Cause your head’s not in the gutter pal, it’s in hell~!”

* * *

Coming back home into his commons was... strange. Deceit would usually come here after speaking to Thomas in such a bitter mood that made him overly snippy and spiteful. He’d become extremely sarcastic and condescending to whatever dared approached him, excusing himself from the other two if possible. Of course, they’d find him anyways and, for some unfathomable reason, let him vent his hurt and anger of being ignored yet again. 

Now, he was... _happy._ That wasn’t odd in itself, he’s felt joy as anyone has, it just didn’t happen often with Thomas. 

It made it far too difficult to act as composed as he usually could, but he wouldn’t give up this glee for one facade. 

He didn’t get much sleep, as _convenient_ as that was. He typically went to bed a few hours before _one AM,_ of all times, but he got what sleep he could after summoning food for Edward and Henry (though summoning that alone nearly made him fall asleep where he stood). 

Waking up at half-past seven was normal enough, but he wasn’t used to still feeling drained afterwards. Drowsy was fine, that’d wear off eventually, but _drained_ made him defenseless, and a tad too desperate for coffee he didn’t have. _Great._

Deceit had sincerely mourned his lack of coffee after the day was over. As soon as he stepped foot into the kitchen, he had another “light” side walk into his home. This time, instead of a bruised Prince, he had _Logan_ requesting to be impersonated. 

...That wasn’t confusing in the _slightest.  
__  
_ Apparently, the logical side needed some work to be done, and since someone had to discuss today’s schedule with Thomas, he wanted Deceit, of all sides, to do the job. _  
_

If the others didn’t mistrust him so much, he would’ve said no. Instead, not too much later, Deceit found himself in a polo and tie with help from the mirror (only static-esque memories, oddly enough), sitting next to Thomas in the real world and conversing over a schedule he had known nothing about earlier. 

And now, the disguises were his new norm. Far too many problems between the “light” sides that they didn’t want to handle fell onto Deceit’s acting. Each day would start with one asking to be impersonated (typically Logan or Roman, but Patton had knocked on their barrier door and asked for impersonation a few times), and would end late at night from either helping Thomas, or from indulging in what he could from the green and orange sides. 

It was _exhausting,_ and he hadn’t asked for them to stop or leave him alone. Why would he? The others— and Thomas, especially— have never searched him out before. He was finally _wanted,_ _useful,_ and he’d be damned if he’d risked getting shut out again. 

But now, it had been two whole months (and counting) of disguises. Memories of interactions that shouldn’t be his were hoarding his mind, and, after the day was _finally_ over, he slumped against his door. He sunk down to sit on the floor, glancing at his room. Some of the scenarios he’d been performing in could’ve easily been handled by the others. The denial, the minuscule problems, the sheer _laziness_ could’ve easily been done by someone else. It wasn’t healthy for so many lies to crowd the Thomasphere, nor was it good for them to be taken as fact, when too many sides knew the truth. 

Would he tell the truth, though? Would he reveal how much of a liar each side was? Would he rip off their masks inside this new masquerade they all lived in, and be shunned yet again for doing the kinder half of his _job?_

He already knew the answer to that, he knew he wouldn’t. Years of neglect from your protectee and fellow sides had made him desperate, even though he knows it’s wrong. Self-lies were the most dangerous of all, and now that his mind was nothing but those lies, this masquerade was far more harmful than it should’ve been. 

Now, however, was his cue to get some sleep. Seeing as it’s, what— three AM ( _yeesh_ )? He might as well get whatever rest he can. He’ll need it for this new normal.   
  
Or, it would’ve been his cue, had a man not popped into existence before him. He had the same face as all of them, save for the scars on his cheeks, and the pink headband strung atop his head. The man— character? side?— glanced around for a moment, only landing on Deceit last. His eyes lit up, but it wasn’t the light that Patton would have after baking, Logan after solving a puzzle, Remus after showing off a new creation, or anything similar.   
  
His own exhaustion wouldn’t let him figure it out, however, as the side crouched in front of him with the least trustworthy smile known on Thomas. 

“Hello, Dante!”

Deceit froze up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically I can’t stay on schedule anymore because I’m a lazy moron  
> But hey! Plot is finally happening! And we be getting a new character tag next chapter!


	21. You’ve Seen the Last of Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for forced amnesia, brief mention of brain damage (but no brains were damaged except for the amnesia), mention of gorgons and other monsters, Remus making sex jokes (because he’s Remus but nothing happens), mention of a penis, mention of baby shit, mentions of snake venom and being ate alive, and one death mention (in a metaphor) but no one dies

“...Who— who are you—?”

The mystery laughed, and, as patronizing as it felt, Deceit didn’t have the energy to tell him to shut up. This man was definitely a side, he couldn’t think of any character who was dressed like some villainous-Hercules-wannabe, and he hardly knew anything about him. He wore a deep grey chlamys that bore a pink stripe near the bottom, with a somewhat lighter grey chiton underneath. He even had the stupid sandals that any ancient greek stereotype wore. 

Had he been more awake, he would’ve seen the familiar logo of an elephant on his silver fibula, clasping the chlamys in place.

“Really? You’re not going to interrogate me about your name?” He crossed his legs like a child, getting out of his crouched position. “I’m surprised Dante! You typically have a better memory than this.” 

Deceit sucked in a breath, trying to figure out this side through his fatigue. He hated being a cornered serpent, coiled in on itself. If he didn’t scare this guy off now, Deceit would never get the higher ground.

But, since he was _absolutely elegant_ when tired, all that came out was, “I _don’t_ use that name.”

The new side’s scarred face turned into a mocking pity, “you don’t? Or do you just let your trust issues hide Dante from everyone? You complain about how easy the other’s problems are to solve, but if you’d just show how honest you really are, then you’d never need that mirror.”

He felt himself blanch as this enigma spoke. He just read Deceit like a book— no, a _children’s fairytale—_ as if it’s an old story that this man has heard time and time again. But Deceit had never said his name out loud. He knew he probably had _some_ form of trust issues, but that didn’t mean they dictated how he acted! And who’s this guy to say that honesty is the best policy? He’s literally _Deceit,_ he’s not supposed to be honest! And how did he know about the mirror? Surely he’s hidden it well enough, no one has mentioned _anything_ about his newest tool.

Deceit scowled, glaring venom into this pink man’s eyes. “Who the hell are you and what do you want?”

Weirdly enough, his expression faltered a bit at the question, but Deceit hardly had a moment to read into it. “Well, if you _really_ must call me something, then call me... Forget.” 

“How convenient,” he drawled, “because I’d _hate_ to forget that this conversation happened.”

At that, the eerie look in his eyes returned, as he grinned at Deceit, “oh wow, this was gonna be easier than I thought!”

Before he could react, two fingers from both hands pressed onto his temples. Against his will, his hands fell limply, he couldn’t move them. Quickly, in a pace he wasn’t expecting, his world faded into a deep sleep that he’s craved for _weeks.  
  
_

* * *

  
For a side who’s known for his words, Dante should be more careful of what he says. 

Oh well, it made Forget’s job much easier. As soon as he entered Deceit’s known memories, the serpentine side instantly fell asleep. _Thank goodness,_ he wasn’t in the mood to fight. 

He started swiping memories left and right, making golden wisps leave Dante’s mind in mere moments. Forget carefully avoided any memories of Deceit in disguise, since he knew that he’d have to leave _something_ for Dante to do. He also left behind any information (mostly about the other sides) that seemed important, just to help Dante that much more. Sure, becoming Thomas’ pure denial wasn’t the most helpful job, but it was better than nothing. 

It was more useful than his own purpose, anyways. 

What felt like hours (and was merely twenty minutes) passed before Forget felt it safe to let go. He did so slowly, trying to not cause permanent brain damage, and slumped once he was done. Surrounding the entire room were wisps of memories. From tension with the light sides, to faded recollections of a happy childhood, to the frustration of never being listened to. Geez, maybe he shouldn’t have targeted a side with so much baggage. 

Then again, he didn’t have much of a choice, Dante truly was the only one he could affect. 

He collected the wisps and grouped them all together, forming a luminescent bundle of what looked like glowing yarn. The headband was removed from his head, placing it around the cooped-up memories from the serpentine side. Each wisp integrated itself into his headband, much to his relief. Truthfully, Forget wasn’t sure if this plan would work. Yet, placing the headwear back on, he felt relieved that it had, but startled from the influx of Dante’s past. 

His head ached, two different pasts— his and Dante’s— clashed together for control. Shit shit _shit shit shit,_ he couldn’t forget _himself!_ All of this would be for nothing, and he’d be gullible towards _everything,_ including _them._ He can’t— he wasn’t—

As harshly as they fought, they almost immediately made peace. He still had a mild headache, but he could worry about that later. So long as his _own_ memories weren’t tampered with, he’d be fine. He’d be ok.

Forget glanced at the previously deceitful— now pure denial— side, how his scales were more grey than green, how the yellow that was there had turned copper in color, and how dull the room became. There was hardly anything distinguishing about his room now, most of it grey, the only colors being discrete, hidden tints of everything but yellow and pink. The mirror laid untouched near Dante, it’s vibrant pink unhideable against the grey. 

The only other seeable color was the copper of the previously yellow door, a sore thumb against Dante’s new, dull palette. He hadn’t expected his own color to mix with the snake’s, but, being Forget, he didn’t think anyone would realize who had done this to Dante. 

With that, satisfied with his work, he reappeared into his home and prison, a personalized heaven and hell. 

The subconscious.   
  


* * *

  
Waking up. Head feels… lighter. He blinks at the room around him, before jolting up (or, as upward as one could slouched against a door). 

Mirror mirror _mirror where is that—_

Pink at his side. _Mirror._ He grabbed the object, and stared down at the glass. No cracks, no scratches, each glow was bright. He relaxed, resuming his position against the door. 

He’d move if he was needed.   
  


* * *

  
He was abruptly, and rather rudely woken up by fangs. They bit into his arm, shoulder, one even went onto his _chest—_

“Mmm, harder daddy~” he snorted at his own sleepy response, before hearing animalistic _hissing._ It was too long to be Deceit’s, and he can’t remember making anything that hissed recently. Ooo, but he _could,_ like a gorgon! Though turning into stone is dull, maybe the victims could become hideous monsters instead? Nah, that’s too random, what’s a worse punishment than eternal—

_Ow—_ another bite? What vermin was doing this? 

Blinking, he looked ahead to see a two-headed snake hissing, four eyes staring at his two. Remus smiled a bit, he never usually got visitors from Edward and Henry. They didn’t typically leave Deceit’s room, so he never has had the chance to interact with them for more than a few minutes. 

“Hey Cobra snakelets! Is Deceit a cobra? I think he mentioned not being one, but I can’t remember, maybe he’s— OW!! Would ya quit biting me? Normally I like it but not from _you_ snakes, no offense. Or full offense, I don’t— OW— ok ok I’m getting up.” Rems grumbled out the last bit, already somewhat fed up with the persistent snake bites. He snapped his fingers for the bites to disappear, finding the snakes slithering to his door before turning towards him.

He cocked (haha, penis) his head. “Do you want me to follow? That’s some _big bottom_ energy right there,” regardless, he opened his door, finding one head stare at him as the other moved the body towards… 

When was there a door that looked like baby shit?

He tried not indulging in that thought as he walked towards the door. The snakes stopped in front of it, instead insistently pointing towards it with both heads. Well, if this proved to be some sort of deadly trap, then so be it. He didn’t mind a little bit of fun! Could these two even form elaborate plans to trap him in? What would they even _do_? Would they sink him into a large vat of snake venom? Would they eat him _alive_? He knows that snakes can swallow their food whole, so maybe—

Wherever that thought was going never landed at its destination. Opening the door, he realized it was… Deceit’s room, but all of the life and character had been sucked out like a… oh, what were metaphors worth? Nothing could explain this ghost town of a room! 

Nothing could explain what happened to the serpentine man in front of him. On the ground, a side once so put-together now sat before him, as still and silent as the dead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the names for Forget’s outfit I found on Wikipedia so yeah— but a chlamys is like a cape that’s (I think) pinned together by a round fibula (which is like a pin I believe?) and a chiton is that big dress or shirt-skirt type thing that you’ll find if you just type “ancient Greek clothes” into google (don’t take what I say as fact tho, all I did was a 5 minute google search for names)  
> But anyways! Here’s the bitch! The mother fucker that has officially fucked shit up!! Mr. Forget Sanders! Yay!!


	22. “Looks Like the Cat’s Out of the Ball Bag!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for some talk of organ mutilation (but they get cut off or end before they go into too much detail, and no organs were actually harmed), blood mentions, lotta angst, sex-related jokes, mentions of a dead body, because Remus, very brief acid, food, onision, cremation, and axe mention, and any side (besides Deceit, Roman, and Logan) seeming unsympathetic (they aren’t of course, but just incase)

He hated silence, but he _adored_ noise. Noise could be an eerie wail in the background, the _squelch_ of blood as organs were mutilated, the growl of a wild beast before it chose you to be its next meal. Noise marginalized silence. Sometimes, however, noise was too tired to exist, letting visuals take its place. Visuals weren’t as great, but occasionally, they were enough. Even without noise, visuals could show the gleam of an axe, the splattered red of blood within pristine outfits, the false sense of safety from something that’s just _too perfect._ Even with the silence, the visuals would be enough. 

When silence was alone, Remus was out of his element. 

Silence meant the cold-shoulder that Roman would give him, the commons after Virgil left for the last time, the waves of uneasiness coming from the locked orange door next to his own. 

Silence now included Deceit, sitting on the floor of such a dull room, motionless. Where was the vivarium? The pretentious wardrobe that was the perfect size to hide a dead body? The heating rock in the corner? The window that looked over the rock?? Even his prissy rug had disappeared! The only things that made this room a _room_ were the bed and nightstand, but even they had lost any personality or color!

_What was going on?_

The Duke lightly nudged his foot to Deceit’s back, but the smaller side hardly moved. So he sat next to him, criss-cross-fortnite-floss. A handheld— sadly not held by an actually disembodied hand— mirror was in Deceit’s fist, one he’s never seen before, but Deceit couldn’t seem to stop staring at it. 

“Y’know, I’ve never pegged you as someone who’s this vain, ana-cock-da, but I ain’t gonna—” 

His train of thought crashed— or maybe ran over a damsel, like in wild west— _focus, dammit._ He stopped speaking when he looked at the glass, more confused than he’s ever been in the last twenty-four hours. The only place that one could see themselves was in a clear hexagon, dead center of the glass. The rest of the cremated sand was filled with each side’s logo, from their friend Onision, to the naive light sides (including the emo), even his own was next to Roman’s!

Deceit’s wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

“...was this some… cruel joke of Roman’s?” his question held no malice in it, just pure confusion. He couldn't remember making something like this, so maybe the pissy princey had—

Oh, so he _does_ move! His gloved thumb— was baby shit his color now?— tapped on his brother’s logo. Instantly, in the blink of an eye, a seam of red left the glass and entered Deceit’s… forehead? _What?_

The scales and lifelessness of his suave friend were gone, replaced with the spitting image of his twin. The mirror was tucked into “Roman’s” belt, before the liar faced him. He blinked expectedly, keeping his eyes figuratively glued on Remus. 

Remus tilted his head, confused by... _whatever_ that was. “Are you fucking with me, lewd-cius malfoy? This is kinda fucked up, and not the good type of fucked-up.” 

The liar, still looking more like Roman’s twin than Remus did, gave him a mocking look of amusement, a royal smirk on his face. “Goodness, Vincent Van Bro, keep swearing like that and you _will_ give Patton a heart attack.” 

...That’s not his snake. 

* * *

_Clang._

The sound roused him awake, making him less aware than he normally was. He placed his glasses onto his face, blinking a few times before he checked his alarm. _3:33 AM._ Who in the world was awake right now? The only one who _might_ be was Virgil, but he typically wasn’t—

“WAKE UP YOU PURISTS _FUCKS!!_ ” 

...or it could be the Duke. A very enraged Duke, at that. 

Ugh, _feelings._

Sighing, Logan snapped himself into his known polo, jeans, and tie, before heading towards the commons. He saw Virgil and Patton were already there, while Roman was following him. The Prince obnoxiously yawned, mumbling a “wha’s happenin’,” while the emotional duo ahead of them appeared to be wide awake. 

He cleared his throat before addressing the Duke. 

“Remus,” all eyes turned towards him at the sound of his voice (minus Roman, who was already facing him), and only then did he notice his own doppelganger grasped by Remus, expression perfectly matching Logan’s own monotone one, “...is there any reason you have brought a clone of me here?” 

The Duke looked _awful,_ even for his standards. His eyes were tinged in a green gleam, his whole body bristled in rage, everything about him figuratively screamed pain, but he didn’t seem to have any injuries. 

“What the hell did you DO to him??” His shaking increased, as did his grip on the clone’s arm. “What— what was _so AWFUL_ that you all decided to ERASE _HIM!?_ ” 

In a weird burst of eccentricity, Remus reached for the Logan-copy's… oh. If this dilemma was about some ass Remus sculpted, he would promptly—

The copy ripped itself away from Remus, before reaching into their own back pocket for… a pink mirror? His copy’s grip on the mirror made their knuckles white while his eyes figuratively zipped around the room, before lingering on Logan. He seemed to be analyzing the logical side, much like how Logan analyzes every situation thrown at him. until he tapped a finger onto the mirror glass.

In mere milliseconds, the copy was replaced by Deceit, if said side decided to have a duller theme. He only looked at the mirror now, his snake eye in such a thin slit that it nearly looked nonexistent. 

Virgil scoffed, but his voice was creeping on distorted, “so Deceit got a makeover and some dumb mirror, who cares? We didn’t do anything, nor did we ‘erase’ him.” 

Nothing was said from the serpentine side. No witty comeback, no exaggerated sarcasm, not a statement that could easily be a lie or truth. Not even a tired glare was sent Virgil’s way, the snake’s eyes just stayed trained on the mirror. 

“Don’t you _dare_ fuck with me, _Virgil._ ” Remus’ voice was quiet. His words were close to a whisper, but they held plenty of figuratively boiling hatred inside. “I can and _will_ lace your eyeshadow with acid. I will jam my thumbs into your eyes until they’re—” 

The Duke and the emo stayed in their world of scorn, both keeping their illuminated eyes on each other, both trying to threaten the other into pliancy, both trembling for different reasons. Patton was, at this point, hidden in his cat hoodie, desperately attempting to avoid the situation (or his own emotions, Logan couldn’t often tell with Patton). Roman kept glancing between his brother and Virgil, conflicted on who he should support in their time of need. 

Logan walked over to Deceit, only now able to see the bags under his humane eye, noticing how he slouched instead of stand tall (which wasn’t much, as he was the shortest side), how Deceit hardly _blinked._

What could’ve caused this? Only one variable had changed recently for the liar (that Logan knew of, at least), which was Logan asking to be impersonated some days. Was this Deceit’s petty revenge against him? Was this some guilt trip he wanted to take the others through? Was it, perhaps, some creation of Remus’ to hurt everyone? Could it be the orange side’s first reveal of his abilities and function? 

No, it likely wouldn’t be the last dark side. The mirror was pink, and the orange side didn’t have any apparent liking for said color. The only side who did was Patton, especially with how his recent Christmas merch came out. 

He glanced at the moral side, who was quietly backing away from the growing conflict. Patton allowed Roman to try and diffuse the situation alone, rather than help the Prince. His shoulders were high while his head was low, as the wannabe-father continuously moved away. 

Logan took one last look at Deceit, confident that he wouldn’t move, before briskly walking towards the moral side. “Patton? Are you alright?” His hand hovered over his shoulder, unsure if touching him would be alright. 

Said hand went down to his side when Patton shook his head. 

“I’m so sorry,” Patton began softly, immediately shutting down the grotesque threats from Remus and Virgil, “I— I wanted a break from all the pressure that Thomas is under to be a good person, but... _someone_ had to do my job, so…” Patton clutched his hoodie tighter, not daring to look anyone in the eyes. 

He took a shaky breath, “so I asked Deceit to cover for me, and he—”

“You did **WHAT?** ” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry I couldn’t get this out sooner but basically personal stuff happened and yeah  
> However!! If you wanna yell at me about it or just message me, I’ve created a tumblr! I don’t have any posts or reblogs yet so I look dead, but I’m @magic-but-its-green on there incase you’re curious


	23. “Bitterly, Jittery, and Not Very Glittery!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for descriptions of panic attacks (if I messed up with writing them please please please tell me so I can fix it), a somewhat Unsympathetic!Virgil (he’s not but he’s angry), self-depreciation, lots of angst peeps, if you’re not feeling great today or are sensitive to shouting, you’re gonna wanna not read this chapter— mentions of death, torture and monsters (none of which happen don’t worry this ain’t whump)

Everyone (but Deceit, obviously) turned towards the distorted voice, and for once that didn’t deter Virgil. He glared a flaring violet at Patton, the moral side tensing up at the sight. No light side had seen such _fury_ from him, even before Virgil had been accepted into their group. They hadn’t seen him bare his teeth like a rabid animal, a spider ready to pounce. 

He advanced towards Patton, even as the Prince and teacher tried shielding the dad away. 

“Virgil, you must calm yourself—”

“Come on, twenty-one-violet, can’t we just—”

“ **WHY WOULD YOU WILLINGLY WORK WITH** **_DECEIT??_ ** ” His distorted scream made the light sides cover their ears, it was too loud, too much, too _everywhere_ to be from one person— “ **DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW DIFFICULT IT WAS TO GET** **_ANY_ ** **OF YOU TO ACCEPT ME!? OH, BUT THE FUCKING** **_HYBRID_ ** **GETS TO LIE TO ALL OF YOU— ALL OF** **_US—_ ** **BECAUSE YOU WERE, WHAT, STRESSED??** ” His volume increased with each word, forcing the light sides to crumble to the ground. The unfiltered, crippling anxiety in the air hung heavy around the core four, like molasses dripping across each of them. 

Eyeshadow ran down his cheeks from tears, a mix of rage and hurt forcing them out. “ **I— I THOUGHT THAT I COULD TRUST YOU, TRUST YOU TO NOT ENGAGE WITH THE LIKES OF** **_HIM._ **” 

He rubbed under his eyes roughly, his palms covered in tears. “ **I thought you were different from** **_him,_ ** **Patton, but…** ” he sighed, now feeling nothing but tired. Tired of the dark sides. Tired of himself, of losing control. Tired of lies. 

Of Deceit. 

His eyes returned to their signature brown as he stormed off into his room, locking the door behind him. He wouldn’t duck out, necessarily, but he didn’t want to deal with… _that._

They can’t deceive him if he isn’t there, anyways.

He slid down the door, pulling his knees up to lay his head on. How many of his memories were actually with the light sides? How many were just Deceit’s act, and how many acts were gifted from one of the others? What does Deceit even _know?_ Was he present for a panic attack, for a family bonding night, for helping _Thomas??_ Why would they even _allow_ that? Roman, sure, he’s weak for any flattery, so enough of it from Deceit would have the Prince begging for more. At least he would’ve understood that (not with a better attitude, of course), but _Patton?_ Patton knew how wrong lying was, how damaging it was for so many people, yet he just— did it anyways! As if it’s no big deal! 

The worst part, somehow, what that this wasn’t forced onto Patton. He could’ve easily never approached Deceit and asked for help. They were family, weren’t they? Didn’t Patton know that he and the other two would’ve easily talked through his problems instead of letting Deceit handle them? Does their family even mean anything to him? Does Patton just not care? 

And why would Patton be so much more trusting of a liar than himself?? His purpose— anxiety— was meant to protect! He was supposed to get Thomas away from any and all danger, that’s an important job! What’s so valuable, so _trustworthy_ of manipulating everyone? Hell, that’s probably what this new look is, just a manipulation tactic! Something Deceit could use for pity points, and boy, did it work!! 

“Congratulations fucker,” he mumbled, despite being alone, “you’ve done it, you’ve taken away everything.”

...he had done that, hadn’t he? Virgil just used powers he wished he could’ve left at the dark side, and in turn hurt the three sides he cared about most. He _saw_ the crippling anxiety wash over them, he didn’t even let Patton finish speaking. Now, they were probably feeling like complete shit, trying to subdue the waves of anxiety he accidentally let free. And no one was there to help them, because, like a brat, he had stormed off. 

His eyes widened with realization, at his biggest mistake in his fit of anger. _He left them there with Remus and Deceit._

...shit.   
  
  


* * *

  
  
He tapped the numerical rhythm onto his hand. Four, seven, eight, four, seven, eight, mimicking it with his breathing. _Four, seven, eight, four, seven, eight..._

Once he could breathe regularly again, he turned his head, noting Joan’s worried gaze staring at him. “Thomas, are you alright?” 

“Yeah- Yeah, sorry, I just felt a ton of sudden anxiety.” 

* * *

  
  
He was hyperventilating, but his breath was all he _could_ feel. His heart was pounding viciously, his hands shook around his ears, his vision saw only a blur of the carpet, his tears were racing, it wouldn’t _stop it wouldn’t stop make it stop make it—_

There’s a finger poking his shoulder. Oh no, is this how he dies? Is some horrid monster from a quest finally receiving their revenge? _Shit,_ it happened again! And again! He’s going to get slaughtered, he’s going to be deprived of everything and he’ll be replaced by Remus and the others won’t look for him and he’ll be all alone if he’s even _alive_ — 

Four taps? What does four mean?? Why are they taking a break?? Is this their method of torture, are they going to make him feel relentless _agony_ before they get their way?? No no no he still needs to help the others, they were hurt too, he needs to just man up and _help,_ he— 

The tapping is becoming familiar to him. There was another set of four— a pause— then seven? Another pause— eight— pause— four— 

He looked up, despite the colors being mere fish swimming in his eyes, his own tears blurring the mass of green and black in front of him. Green and black— it’s poking him— four, seven, eight— it’s… 

“Rem… Remus, I—”

“Shush, just keep breathing.” 

So he did. Four, seven, eight, four, seven, eight. He stumbled one too many times, but Remus said he’s doing fine, so maybe he’s doing something right? 

It takes far too long before he’s feeling more princely again, but once he is, he’s being led to the couch by the Duke. He can’t read Remus’ face, but it’s not like he’s trying to, anyways. 

“Stay there,” he says, not a hint of maniacal glee in his voice, “me and Dee will help the other two.” 

Dee…? 

He looks over at the three lumps of blue on the floor, only one of them isn’t shaking. He’s talking to Patton, but he looks like Logan, but Logan’s sitting next to Patton, hyperventilating, how—? 

Remus is there now, and he’s talking to the shaking Logan. They’re both repeating the numbers— four, seven, eight— and it’s not long before Patton is sitting next to Roman. The fatherly figment still looks frightened, so he offers a hand (this is awful, he should’ve helped! The other two don’t deserve to feel that trapped, that _alone, that nauseatingly tight squeeze that just—_ ).

He felt Patton’s hand in his, followed by softer, quieter, shakier taps of the numbered pattern. He followed it like a lifeline, clinging onto the repetition as he and Patton breathed in sync. Inhale for four, hold for seven, exhale for eight. 

Roman couldn’t tell when his breathing had evened out, nor could he recall when Logan had sat beside him, or when Remus had stood in front of the panicked trio. 

What he could recall, however, was how Remus was trembling, but not out of anger. He could see sharp and uneven nails dig into his brother’s palms, the way his abnormally pointed-teeth gnawed onto his lip, the way he tightly shut his eyes from everyone in the room, before suddenly standing straight (or gay) into typical Remus fashion, leaning on his morningstar for support. His eyes were as wide as normal, but they didn’t seem to be wide out of crazed glee. They looked so forced, like Remus was trying to act as Remus (that didn’t make sense, but what did at this point?).

“So! Greg Uni-worst!” The Duke bore his gaze onto Patton, and despite the harsh volume, Roman recognized that Remus was at least trying to be quieter. He squeezed Patton’s hand, hoping he could convey his support through the action. “Mind sharing with everyone what you were going to say before Virgil threw a tantrum?” 

“Actually, Remus,” began Logan, almost seeming completely normal, minus the slight shaking in his hands, “do you know anything about what… whatever that was from Virgil?” 

Remus sighed, somewhat comically exaggerated, yet he still seemed off to Roman, “yeah, his voice can basically send anyone into a panic attack whenever he’s upset enough. You get used to it after a while.”

That… was the opposite of comforting, even if comfort wasn’t the Duke’s goal. 

“Anyways, Pop-tropica,” said Remus, the same forced normalcy on his face, “what were you saying?”

Roman’s hand was suffocatingly squeezed. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have no excuse for why this was late other than I’m lazy and unmotivated about anything- and for that I’m sorry 
> 
> Anyways, here’s some angst to make everything more hectic. I’m sorry to all the Virgil stans, but at least he isn’t the villain of this story— also weirdly enough Virgil and Patton are the most difficult to come up with nicknames for, dunno why tho
> 
> (And don’t worry Deceit’s still in the room I just didn’t know how to get Roman to mention him in a way that worked)


	24. “You Wanna Face Facts?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for an almost panic attack (but it doesn’t happen because Thomas saves the day), lots of self-hatred, and swearing but y’all already knew that one

Holy shit, he fucked up.

The longer he stayed in his room, the louder his thoughts became. A harmony of mocking and berating words carried their song all around him, and all he wanted was to be left alone.

But he deserved this, he hurt the three kindest sides in this whole damn mindscape _but Patton lied he accepted Deceit before you he didn’t want to deal with you so he sent Deceit you should’ve just been better then this wouldn’t have—_

“Shut up shut up shut **UP!!** ” he screeched, hands gripping his hair as the swirl of feelings increased. It’s too much _but you deserve it_ but he didn’t mean to _but they won’t see it that way_ — _Patton might have lied but you did too, you never told him of your voice and now you’ve hurt all of them, you’re no better than_ **_him._ **

He didn’t know how long he sat there, arguing with his own destructive thoughts that were determined to degrade him. Virgil couldn't really defend himself, even though he tried. He knew that he was in the wrong, he _knew_ that every thought was true, he wasn’t any better than Deceit. He hid his voice from his friends just like Patton hid the slimy snake, and then he left three panicking sides with Remus and Deceit, the former being insane and the latter being the least trustworthy side known to Thomas. 

Truly, Virgil was the biggest dumbass alive.

It felt like he was sat there for at least an hour, despite it only being twenty minutes after entering his room, when he felt the familiar tug from Thomas. _Shit,_ he couldn’t allow Thomas to see him like this, but he couldn’t just ignore him (especially since the last time he did that, _everyone_ went into his room)! But what else was he going to do? Just tell Thomas that he overreacted to lies of omission, and sent his friends into panic attacks? Tell him that the dark sides are just begging for attention, and caused everything to go to shit?

* * *

His FaceTime call didn’t last very long (partially because the ending half was just him and Joan telling the other to get some sleep), but once it was over, he was staring at the screen in confusion. Where _had_ that sudden feeling of fear come from? His dream wasn’t particularly scary, really it was just devoid of anything, and his day so far had been pretty calm, so what had—? 

Oh, _duh,_ Virgil exists— maybe something had happened to him! 

He raised his hand out to summon the emo, and lo and behold, there he was— eyeshadow ran down his cheeks, his breathing was shaky, his hair stuck out in every direction possible, and his eyes were wide in terror, “Thomas— what, uh— what’s up?” 

“I just wanted to check on you, buddy— you, uh, you doing alright?” If anything, Virgil seemed like he was either in a panic attack, or was about to have one. 

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine— Deceit and Remus fucked everything up, and Patton’s been lying about talking to Deceit, but—” he cut himself off, looking more frightened than before. “Shit— I didn’t mean to— I—” 

“Virge, hey,” he peacefully stated, despite feeling another wave of anxiety himself, “can you just tell me five things you see?” 

Virgil’s eyes darted around his room, “everyone’s upset faces, their—” 

“In this room, Virgil.”

“...bed, wall, blanket, uh— my hoodie, your phone.” his voice was soft, quiet, but thankfully close enough for Thomas to hear.

By the time the exercise was over, Virgil had calmed down enough to think clearer, which was a relief to Thomas. He had a _lot_ of questions, and he knew that asking immediately would’ve only made Virgil spiral further into his panic, and that was the last thing he wanted for the anxious side. 

“How are you feeling, Virge?” 

“A— a little better. Thanks, Thomas.” 

He gave a soft smile, grateful that Virgil was at least somewhat calmer. “Of course, though can I ask you some questions?” 

The anxious side shrugged, “sure, I probably confused you with my— uh— rambling earlier.” 

Thomas let a small chuckle leave him, though it wasn’t joyous, moreso a way to lessen Virgil’s tension. “Yeah, just a bit. So, first question—” he saw the emo’s head tilt quizzically, though he had to figure out which question he wanted to ask first. Trouble coming from both dark and light sides surely couldn’t mean anything good. 

Although, maybe it would be easiest to start off with the most important question. 

“Who is Deceit?” 

* * *

Once Patton had finished his story of his lies, he wouldn’t look any of them in the eyes, _especially_ the dark sides. Roman couldn’t blame him, he already felt bad enough for how he, the Prince, used Deceit, and Patton went to the liar less than Roman had. Plus, Patton was _morality,_ the side who, supposedly, had to be the embodiment of good every hour, conforming to every definition of righteousness like it was the law, and by going to Deceit for help, he had essentially done the opposite of his own function (which Roman found to be a stupid, and overbearing view of Patton’s job, but he knew the fatherly figment didn’t see it that way). 

He had swapped places with Patton on the couch for maximum comfort between him and Logan. Remus looked on for a moment, before looking past the couch, where Deceit stood eerily still. 

Truthfully, Roman wished he didn’t have to confess as well, if Virgil’s reaction towards _Patton_ was anything to go by. Yet what was the point of hiding it? Clearly Deceit wanted them to confess, do the dirty work while he just stared at a mirror, but Roman couldn’t hate him for it. How often had the liar been disguising himself for their request? How often was he disguised without prompt? Surely acting several parts out daily was draining, so Roman wouldn’t argue against the snake getting some rest, but he wished that Deceit wouldn’t just stand ominously behind them either. He’d confess, dammit, Deceit didn’t have to keep the pressure up. 

When he said “I’ve been doing the same thing,” almost all eyes turned towards him, but only two pairs were sympathetic. Remus’ bore into him, wanting a guilt-ridden essay to spill from Roman. Deceit… the bastard just kept admiring his scales, or _something,_ since he wouldn’t stop staring at that stupid mirror.

He hated telling everyone the truth, and he hated realizing how _often_ he’d started asking for a break. One week was almost nothing _but_ Deceit acting as him, making the Prince feel _worse._ He should’ve just done his _job,_ not try finding excuses for Deceit to do the work instead! He was supposed to be a hard-working knight, but all he’s become is a slob with a sword. 

Though, it was pretty comforting to hear Logan tell his tale. No one’s used to seeing Logan, the smartest and most motivated side, abandoning his work. He’s put such a strain on the importance of routine and productivity that hearing him confess to having Deceit do work he didn’t want to do was, in a regrettable way, almost therapeutic for the Prince.

After the three of them had said their truths, Remus was silent. They could all see how badly his jagged fingernails dug into his palms, making small cuts for blood to swim out of, but none of them mentioned it. His eyes were drilling into them each, and if he wasn’t so quiet, this would’ve felt normal. 

Then, he cackled (never mind, the noise was just as bad as the silence). It started off soft, more so a chuckle, before it became completely maniacal. He shuddered at the ear-piercing sound, especially once the Duke was on the edge of just _screaming._ The last time Roman heard his brother’s murderous laugh, he had— 

...actually, he’d rather not think about Deceit saving him from Remus (it didn’t help his guilty conscience). 

“You— you fucking HYPOCRITES!!” He screeched, tightening his grip on his Morningstar. “You all were fine with _using_ _him,_ and _LYING_ when it’s convenient, but as soon as Deceit wants to do the _exact same thing?_ ‘Oh nooo!!’” He wailed, mocking them, “‘we couldn’t _DARE_ lie to a _friend!!_ Or our _family!!_ That would be _WRONG!!’_ ” 

“Remus—”

“Shut it, Logang.” He marched towards them, and try as he may, Roman couldn’t summon his sword. He’s summoned worse, fought crueler monsters than his own brother, but he couldn’t summon _his own damn sword! Why did his own fear have to—_

The Morningstar was in the air before they could blink, as Remus loomed over them, “you three need some serious common sense knocked into ya, and that’s coming from _me!_ Luckily, I’m _quite willing_ to—”

He froze, as soon as Roman felt it. Someone was frantically trying to summon him (and by the shock on their faces, everyone else too), tugging as if it would quicken his arrival. The trio held their breaths, waiting for Remus’ actions. The sound of someone sinking out was heard behind him, but Roman hardly registered it.

The Duke sighed, tiredly or furiously, Roman couldn’t tell. He lowered his Morningstar to his side. “This isn’t over, so don’t even hope for a _second_ that it is.”

With that, the Duke sunk out, followed a few moments later by the light sides, into the real world. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bibbity bobbity boo i have several assignments due but this chapter is new and this is updated wOOO 
> 
> no I don’t know what the purpose of that weird rhyming thing was but oh well— yell at me about typos I’m pretty sure they’re in here somewhere
> 
> Anyways I guess follow me on tumblr @magic-but-its-green if y’all wanna talk or something because I’m planning on posting drawings there once I have a cartoon style I like (and I’ll probably post Forget’s logo on there too at some point-)


	25. “You Literally Know Him As Deceit!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for intrusive thoughts that’ll be kinda detailed (this’ll be a repeating thing in future chapters), Ted Bundy, death, torture, and hell mention, knocking someone out without permission (he’s just asleep tho dw), self harm by digging nails into palms in hopes of them bleeding, shouting, an almost panic attack that is prevented, brief death wish, let me know if I missed anything 
> 
> Intrusive thoughts include : head being opened with brain and skull bits being torn out, deteriorating one’s mental sanity through torture, bleeding out, head shaking so much it fell off, being squeezed hard enough for organs to come out.

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

Thomas couldn’t _not know_ who Deceit was, right? That’s not— no side is just forgotten, that doesn’t happen— but what if it _does?_ Can all of the light sides be forgotten?? Can _Virgil_ be forgotten, and then he’ll have to get a redemption all over again because he’s anxiety and that’s not a job as kind as morality or logic and what if Thomas doesn’t accept him this time and— 

“Virge? Are you—”

“You don’t know who Deceit is??”

He blinked at the emo for a moment, before slowly shaking his head. “No, but it sounds vaguely familiar.”

“Of course it sounds familiar, Deceit’s _your_ side—” he ran a hand through his hair, harshly scratching at the roots. What could make Thomas remember an _entire side?_ Could he even remember Deceit? Thomas didn’t exactly have any friendly interactions with Deceit, so he honestly didn’t forget much, but what if he had forgotten a light side? What could’ve made him forget so easily? Was this connected to Deceit’s little stunt earlier?? What did this mean for the snake? For the _light sides?_ _For Thomas??_

He could feel his panic grow yet again, but he didn’t allow himself to be helped by Thomas. Instead, he jerkily summoned _everyone_ up to the real world. He couldn’t answer Thomas’ calls of his name, not until Virgil got some answers _himself._

The first to arrive, shocker, was the slimy bastard himself. His mirror was still held in copper-colored gloves, and his face remained as blank as ever. Deceit merely stared at Virgil, not a trace of emotion on his face. At least before he pulled this stunt, Deceit would show him confidence, or would have some emotion other than apathy.   
  
Thomas, worriedly enough, looked genuinely shocked to see Deceit. “What the— I have a snake for a side??”   
  
“Deceit,” he growled, not bothering to respond to his protectee, “mind explaining what you did to Thomas??”

The hybrid seemed to ponder for a moment, before using that damn mirror to look like Logan. He growled in frustration and rubbed his face, right as the sound of someone arriving filled the room.   
  
Thomas made a noise of surprise, “Remus!?”

“Remus,” Virgil repeated, looking at the Duke, whose whole demeanor just shouted frustration, “Thomas doesn’t— he doesn’t know who Deceit _is._ ”   
  
  


* * *

In the famous words of Ted Bundy, (probably) ... what. The. _Fuck._

There was no way— Thomas wouldn't have just— no, he didn’t, he shouldn’t— _he couldn’t._

And yet he _could’ve._ Someone could’ve split Thomas’ head open and ripped out his brain into little chunks, the brain juice just oozing out as blood and skull pieces littered the floor and— 

Pressure. His nails dug into his palm, the other killing the Morningstar in his death-grip, like how they all gripped onto Deceit’s precious time and energy and tore into him until he was nothing but this empty shell and they probably want to rip Deceit into pieces or destroy his mental sanity until he’s no longer Deceit because they’d torture him they were doing it before they—

_Dammit, just keep applying pressure!!_ Buthe deserved more pressure, he needed the blood to ooze out of him until he was nothing but an endless supply of gushing red because he didn’t do anything he didn’t try to help he didn’t stop the favorites sides and he should’ve been there for Deceit he should’ve—

He took a long breath, trying to abandon his intrusive thoughts. Now was _not_ the time to utilize his creativity, now was the time to act. “Thomas,” he began, his unsettling grin and wide eyes boring into the man, “please, don’t give us that absolute _bullshit._ ”   
  
Honestly, if Thomas just claimed that this was a sick prank, Remus would be less inclined to marry Thomas with his Morningstar. Instead, he just shook his head, and what if he shook it so hard that it fell— _Remus focus!!_

“I’m sorry,” Thomas said, looking down, away from his three sides, “but I‘ve never met a Deceit before.” 

He didn’t register Virgil’s breathing becoming choppy. He didn’t know that the “light” sides had risen up. He didn’t see Thomas back away from him. 

All that he _did_ know was that he was across from Thomas one moment, and was being held back from playing whack-a-mole with his Morningstar the next, by none other than Roman. 

“Remus quit struggling—!”

“I WON’T LET THIS SLIDE, ROMAN!!” 

Unfortunately, the Prince had a death grip around Remus’ arms, and maybe he could squeeze the Duke hard enough that his eyes and brain and heart and all kinds of guts would come flying out of him and he’d go limp from so much blood loss and never have to deal in this new hell he’s been brought because now all he has is orange because they erased Deceit and— 

Woah, why was everything rising up?? And— ow, what’s going on with his neck— ohh, now everything’s turning black? Is he dead? He hopes so— wait no, he has to see Deceit! And orange! He can’t... 

He was asleep in seconds.

* * *

Patton had to be shushed before he screamed. But how couldn’t he scream?? It looked like _Logan killed Remus!!_

One minute the Duke was thrashing around in the worst brotherly hug he’s ever seen, the next Logan had hit some part around or on his neck, and the Duke went limp. Yes, Remus wasn’t the _most useful_ side for Thomas, but he shouldn’t have been killed!!   
  
Logan has turned towards him, and covered Patton’s mouth, as if dealing with a child. “Patton, please refrain from screaming. Remus is not dead, he’s merely asleep.” 

Patton felt himself relax at Logan’s words, but he was still trembling. Whether it was because of the sudden stillness from the Duke, or from Remus’ earlier threat, or even his panic attack from before, Patton didn’t know. He just knew that he felt shaken up, even when Logan removed his hand.   
  
Then, a lot happened all at once. 

Virgil instantly disappeared, probably to the mindscape or his room. Roman and Logan got into an argument quickly, and their voices merely raised in volume with each word. 

“What was that, Logan??”

“He was going to hurt Thomas, I had every right—”

“We could’ve just taken him back to the mindscape!! What did you _think_ I was trying to do??”

“I was not going to stand here and allow him to hurt Thomas!”

“Why did you _think_ I hadn’t let him go??”

Their voices started overlapping each other, and all Patton could do was cover his ears. He couldn’t handle all the noise, and his hoodie did nearly nothing to help. 

He looked over at his not-imaginary kiddo, and almost had to do a double-take. When had Deceit sat next to Thomas? And why was he disguised as _himself??_

“I— I’m not— I—”

“Kiddo,” said Deceit, nearly making the real Patton think that he was the fake, the only thing telling him otherwise was the pink mirror tucked into Deceit’s belt, “hey, can you breathe with me?” 

Deceit did well with the breathing exercise before Thomas went spiraling, and only halfway through did Patton catch himself following along. Logan and Roman were still too loud for him, but when Deceit has finished, he felt _much_ calmer than before.   
  
Thomas looked at Deceit with gratitude and said, “thanks, Pat.” Pat? But he was- did Thomas not see him?? 

The liar beamed at him, and once again, Patton had to remind himself that _that_ was Deceit, and not himself. “Of course kiddo! I’m happy to help!”   
  
“Do you... do you know why I have an entire side dedicated to lying?”   
  
In an instant, Deceit’s smile faded away, changing into an apathetic look that only mimicked how he looked _out_ of disguise, “you don’t have a lying side though.”

Thomas looked at him with a mix of disbelief and relief, “then who were Remus and Virgil talking about?”

Deceit blinked, before pulling out the mirror. It made Thomas back away slightly in alarm, and one tap on the glass made scales and gloves reappear on Deceit. 

“You— you’re—”

“I’m _not_ your Deceit,” stated Deceit, and the words alone made Roman and Logan shut up immediately, “I _am_ your Denial.”

_...Denial??_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It do be like that sometimes— there are probably lots of mistakes in this but I’m too lazy to care rn (also should I change the tags to include the graphic violence one? Because I’m not 100% sure if intrusive thoughts fall under that (no one’s hurt but at the same time they’re pretty graphic—) 
> 
> The entire plot of this fic got called out earlier on tumblr and it had me dying for a moment lmao 
> 
> Anyways, I’ll have a post up by the time this updated in tumblr with doodles of this fic and Forget’s logo! It’ll be @magic-but-its-green, but if you don’t have tumblr then here’s the link : https://magic-but-its-green.tumblr.com/post/616706962440208384/so-basically-forget-sanders-logo-plus-bonus


	26. “Do I Really Know Myself as Well as I Should?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For starters I’m so so sorry that this took me forever— I have just been struggling with creative block so I’m sorry about that— but!! As an apology I’m gonna update two chapters today because that seems like a reasonable thing to do I think— but ye
> 
> TW for past dry-heaving, mentions of vomit, mentions of killing, brief mention of food and suffocation (and a possibly brief triggering moment for claustrophobic people), and a somewhat unsympathetic Patton (he’s mostly being a jerk in his thoughts he doesn’t do anything bad) and Logan angst for the Logan stans

Well, _that_ had to be a falsehood. Denial simply wasn’t a large enough function to create a full side, and Deceit was the only one who had scales across his face. Besides, if denial _was_ a prominent function, then it would be a minor one that figuratively falls under Deceit. 

It does not _replace_ Thomas’ deception. 

But the evidence was irrefutable, Deceit— or Denial?— had clearly changed. If this was an act, he would’ve stepped in between Virgil and Remus’ shouting. He wouldn’t have disguised himself to comfort Patton. He would’ve scolded Remus for trying to assault everyone with his Morningstar.

...Remus wouldn’t have pretended for this long. Though, it is possible that Deceit is pretending, and has fooled Remus into believing that something is wrong. Yet, from previous experience of seeing the two of them interact, Logan couldn’t understand why Deceit would feel the need to lie to Remus. They seemed to have a strong friendship, so unless Deceit had _pretended_ to enjoy Remus’ company and loyalty, there didn’t seem to be a logical reason for Deceit to lie to him. Even if his intentions were to have Remus act as aggressively as he did, Logan was certain that _anyone_ could ask the Duke to do so, and Remus would happily oblige. 

So, either Deceit is pretending to have changed for some unknown reason and Remus is aware of it, or he truly has become Denial. 

Logan had to admit, he hoped it was the former. 

Roman gave a weak chuckle, one that clearly was not as amused as Roman tried to make it sound, “Denial? What are you, Jack the River?” 

Deceit— Denial? Whoever he is now, he didn’t bother with responding to Roman. He merely looked down at the glass yet again, and stayed perfectly still. If it was not for the slight rising of his chest, Logan would have assumed that he stopped _breathing._

“Denial..?” Thomas questioned, making the snake look at him. He only met Thomas’ gaze for a moment, before looking down once more. Logan could not fathom why the mirror was so interesting, it only displayed everyone’s logos (minus Deceit’s, oddly enough). 

Although, it _had_ turned Deceit (or Denial) into any side he pleased, without all of the modifications he would normally make. As convenient as that seemed, Logan did not think it warranted the snake’s undivided attention. 

Patton took this as a cue to leave, stating “Virgil needs some comfort right now— I’ll check on him.” Before he abruptly sunk out. 

Thomas and Roman remained in the same tension that he did— a sense of unsureness and underlying dread emitting from each of them. 

“Logan?” Thomas said, making said side look towards him, “how— how bad is all of... this?” He gestured around a bit, mostly at the Duke and the snake.

He couldn’t help but frown at the question. As Logic, this should be easy for him to answer. He’s supposed to have all of the answers for the mindscape, yet nothing seems to quite explain _any_ of this. Maybe he should just start off with basic facts, perhaps then he’ll come to a logical conclusion that properly identifies all of _this,_ as Thomas eloquently put it.

The teacher cleared his throat and adjusted his tie before speaking, “Well, as sides, we typically form with very basic functions. Patton used to just be feelings, I used to just be thinking, so on so forth. As you grow, our roles and placement in the mindscape change with you, sometimes leading to more sides forming.” Roman clutched the Duke a little tighter at that part (why hadn’t he put Remus down?) but no one else spoke. 

“However,” Logan continued, “there is a point, typically in your adolescence, where we cannot change functions or roles anymore, leading to the sides that you have today.” He glanced at the snake, feeling an itch of _wrongness_ just looking at him. “Deceit, or Denial, I suppose, functioned as your selfishness, deception, and as another form of self-preservation. He was not just Denial, like he claims to be now.”

At this point, he sighed, overtly aware of how, when he’s (finally) being listened to, he, for once, has nothing to say. “I cannot think of a reason for Deceit to have changed, especially _now,_ since he had supposedly stopped changing around the time we all did.” 

He could not look at any of them at the moment, he could tell that they were disappointed with his answers. Logan wished that he had more to say, that he could give an explanation, but he was so used to that problem being the others _not_ listening. He didn’t know how to handle it when _he_ was the problem, because he couldn’t have the answers for one thing. 

“Well...” began Roman, catching Thomas and Logan’s attention, “maybe we should discuss this later? It was three-something-am, last I checked, so perhaps we should get some rest? You especially Thomas— you’re the one who needs the most sleep.” 

It took a little convincing (and a suggestion to hit Thomas’ pressure point, as Logan had done with Remus), but Thomas agreed that rest would be optimal for all of them. 

They sunk out once Thomas had nearly fallen asleep, though Logan had to sink the snake out with him. Immediately, Roman placed his brother down onto their common’s couch, not exactly eager to go to the dark side’s half of the mindscape (and honestly, with someone as ominous as the orange side there, Logan wasn’t keen on venturing out either). He led the liar to the light side’s armchair, having him sit there for the night. 

It was almost eerie, just how much Deceit looked like himself from the interrogation two months prior, and how much he looked like a completely different side. 

* * *

_He opened his eyes to the sound of humming, though he didn’t recognize the room. Instead of blood littering the walls (it’s a great decoration, and that’s a fact), there were yellow, overlapping circles across a black background. The floor was made out of fluffy, white carpet, rather than the choppy wood his had. He recognized drawings on top of a wardrobe and nightstand as his and the other dark side’s art, as well as one framed picture of the four of them.  
_

_Truthfully, the room was smaller than his own, but it was also much less cluttered. Oh, but what if this room shrank? What of the walls were closing in on him, and he’d—_

_The room started spinning as nausea swam through him. He felt ready to hurl, but his stomach was as empty as Roman’s head. He could feel his insides trying to pointlessly force something out, making his hand cover his mouth instantly.  
_

_Far too quickly did he find himself sitting up (when had he lied down?), a newly noticed bucket in front of him. He hardly registered a hand making circular movements on his back as he dry-heaved, pain flaring in his throat while he vomited nothing. He didn’t know how long he sat there for, but he couldn’t deny the fascination that came with this torture. What if you could vomit without force? As in vomit could just appear at will, and you could keep it inside or spit it at people? That’d be so fun! The ways he could scare the others, oh, he’d have so much— oh god— not again—_

_It felt like forever until he stopped, though honestly, Remus had never had a great inner-clock, partially because he didn’t have a clock inside him! It’d be weird if he did though, he’d have a constant ticking sound following him everywhere! He could perfectly picture Roman’s annoyed glares, or Anxiety’s irritated sneers, it’d be hilarious!  
  
A water bottle was put into his hands as someone removed the bucket from his arms. It took him a moment to register the yellow sleeves, but once he did, he felt excitement bubble up next to the pain of dry-heaving.   
_

_“Sw-Hiss Cheese!” He exclaimed, abruptly reaching for the other teen before a new burning pain shot across his shoulder. He yelped in alarm, as Deceit was startled by the sudden movement.  
  
“Remusss!” He hissed, no venom in his words despite his expression. “You _don’t _need to be careful! Your shoulder_ has _healed!”  
_

_He grinned sheepishly, gently clutching his wounded shoulder, “eh...sorry?” He said, in the least sorry voice known to man.  
_

_The serpentine side sighed, before carefully helping Remus lay down again (on his side, of course, to not disturb his shoulder). He had his head resting in Deceit’s lap, whose fingers softly carded through his untamed hair. Honestly, it’d be kinda funny if Deceit’s hand got trapped in his hair— actually, could that happen? Maybe his tangles could trap the other’s fingers into his knots, and the only way Deceit could free himself would be to cut off his hand! That’d be funny, though Deceit probably wouldn’t like that, and he didn’t want Deceit to be any more mopey than he’s been lately.  
_

_Speaking of mopey, he should bring the mood up in here— it’s as stifling as suffocation probably is._

_“So,” he drawled, bringing Deceit’s attention onto him, “what happened to my shoulder? And where are we? Oh, are we in the other sides’ territory? Can we kill them?? I wanna get Roman, he killed one of my creations the other day for some ‘quest’ and—”_

_“Ssslow down,” said snakey, “you’re in my room, so don’t worry about any of them. And no, we aren’t killing them, since Thomas needs them or whatever, I guess.” Remus giggled at that, of course Thomas doesn’t_ need _the light sides! That would be ridiculous!_

_He could see Deceit’s faint grin that he pathetically tried to repress, but that’s not cool! He wanted to see those fangs poke out, they were really sharp— maybe Deceit could stab people with them!_

_It was very confusing, however, when his dream shifted from a memory into another room. It looked like a drive-in theater, only the square shape of a room ruined the illusion that he was truly outside. Green light came off of the screen, showing_ something _that Remus couldn’t see.  
_

That was the last of anything he dreamt about, before a flash of darkness took over anything his unconscious mind may create.

* * *

Patton rose up into the mindscape, feeling overly conflicted. He hated how he had hurt Deceit, to the point where the liar didn’t go by his actual function anymore. Even so, he knew that Deceit wasn’t a good side for Thomas, since all he ever wanted was for Thomas to be selfish. That was wrong! He was trying to make Thomas a bad person! But Patton had still hurt Deceit, and hurting someone is also wrong, but Deceit isn’t a good person, but he was still hurt, but... 

He sighed, frustrated with himself and with the snake. He couldn’t tell how much of this was a lie, and he couldn’t figure out how he felt about _any_ of it. Guilt? Relief? Stress? Resentment? He didn’t know, but he _should_ know. Patton was all of Thomas’ feelings, he was the emotional side for a reason! Though maybe that doesn’t matter, since he was also the _moral_ side, and he acted immorally towards Deceit. 

His thoughts continued going back-and-forth between blaming Deceit for all of his troubles, and wanting to apologize for everything, as he walked over to the purple door across his own. He fidgeted with his hoodie sleeves, tugging and pulling at them as a weak distraction from his thoughts. 

Before he could even stand by the door, however, Virgil ripped it open with such force that made Patton flinch. His eyes had a flicker of purple shining in them, though no where near how bright they had been with Remus (thankfully). 

“Kiddo...?” He asked, hesitantly. Virgil narrowed his eyes at him for a moment, making Patton step back. If he was going to experience another panic attack, he’d like to be _somewhat_ ready for it. 

Instead, the anxious side sighed, his voice nearly distorted when he finally spoke, “Where is Logan?”

He tilted his head at the question, “uh— he’s with Thomas. Kiddo, are you—?”

“I can’t find Thomas’ memories of Deceit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so firstly— I’m not going to be changing Deceit’s name for this fic, and you’ll see why in future updates (that’s for spoilers as well) 
> 
> secondly— the timing for this is probably going to be post-DWIT and pre-POF (putting others first), but POF is going to happen much later than in the canon timeline (due to the two months Deceit spent running around in disguise) 
> 
> thirdly— not really important but in the first trolly philosophy scene, when the top left highlighted Deceit’s logo it said “Denial” and I died right then and there— just though that was a fun thing to mention
> 
> This was from the update on Friday just fyi


	27. “ But What If Looking at the Past Makes Him Feel Kinda Iffy About the, uh Present?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point I’ve given up on a consistent uploading schedule because,,,, I’m lazy there’s no excuse
> 
> TW for Virgil hating Deceit and minor Roman angst I guess— honestly not a triggering chapter 
> 
> Also there’s probably a lot of grammar mistakes because I’m tired and probably missed stuff while re-reading this

Reappearing in his room, he was filled with a sense of overwhelming dread and confusion. Remus was too genuine to play along with Deceit’s facade, and Thomas didn’t remember his  _ own side,  _ and he nearly got  _ attacked and Virgil didn’t do anything to stop it he should’ve moved he should’ve _ —

He had to stop spiraling. He didn’t have the time or luxury to get lost in his own thoughts, especially with Deceit  _ still _ holding onto this act. Right now, finding evidence proving that Deceit was causing problems for the sake of causing problems should be his main concern. But where to start? Deceit wouldn’t help, regardless if this was fake or not, and the hybrid knew the most about…  _ this.  _ The other light sides didn’t know anything, unless Patton was still lying, and Remus was just as confused as all of them. Thomas’ memory was skewed, so even if he knew anything, it—

His eyes widened in realization, before he ran towards a door that didn’t exist in Thomas’ real bedroom, but always existed for the sides. He ripped it open, finding the seven evergrowing shelves in the pitch-black rooms that made up the memory archive. Invisible barriers separated each shelf, and could only be crossed with limited permission from a side. They all pointed towards a center that some memories fell into, and never returned from, though no one has ever tried to go down there themself. Dotting each shelf, like thick bundles of film, were Thomas’ memories throughout the years. They were almost pure white, just slightly tinted to pertain to whichever side was responsible for said memory (he couldn’t forget how the tint changed from a faint gray to a slight lavender after his acceptance). 

He went towards his own shelf, thankful for the highly convenient ability to request any memory from it that he’d like. Putting his hand onto the rack, he thought of Deceit’s introduction to Thomas, how it made his control over Thomas grow due to the anxiety of merely seeing those scales, how Thomas, for a brief moment, believed that Patton truly  _ was _ a persona for Deceit to act out (though, he had become one recently). He concentrated on that moment, expecting the memory to glide towards him, as any memory would. 

But nothing came. 

Virgil didn’t move for a while, but his worry certainly grew. Maybe he just had to be patient, Thomas  _ did _ have plenty of memories, afterall, Patton and Logan’s shelves were only proof of that. Even as he sat there, doing all he could to concentrate on the memory that  _ should _ be there, nothing happened. Was it because of him? Was Virgil incompentent of using his own shelf?? Who was taking over his job? What had he done wrong?? Was this punishment for hurting the light sides?? What did—

He shook his head, he had to get a grip on himself. Maybe this was just a mistake? Surely he couldn’t have such an important part of his function taken, right? 

Trying a different memory, one over a deadline that Thomas missed, he saw the familiar salt-white thread float towards him. He sighed in relief, content in the fact that he could still summon the memories. After tapping the memory twice, sending it back onto a higher ledge on the shelf, he once again tried to summon Deceit’s introduction. 

Yet again, nothing came. 

...what the hell? 

His overwhelming panic came back at a gradual pace, like a monster creeping along his walls. This couldn’t be— Deceit had to be acting, he couldn’t be behaving  _ genuinely!  _ If any of this was real, then Deceit truly  _ had _ changed, and Thomas  _ could  _ forget sides on a whim, and something had happened something that shouldn’t have and Virgil didn’t prevent it like he was supposed to—

He tried focusing on the trial, on the dread and stress of which event Thomas should’ve gone to, but once again got nothing . When he finally distanced himself from the shelf, finally accepting the fact that Thomas truly didn’t know the snake, he glanced over at Deceit’s shelf through the barriers separating each memory. Deceit hadn’t had many of Thomas’ memories before all of this, he only kept track of any important lies Thomas told (as far as Virgil knew, he couldn’t be sure with the snake). He remembers commenting long ago on how those memories almost looked like butter, how Remus  _ somehow  _ turned his words into something lewd, and how exasperated it made the snake. But these didn’t look like butter, and they didn’t sit in place on Deceit’s shelf, like everyone else’s did. They were all on the edges of their ledge, looking close to diving off towards the abyss that was the center, not quite falling but certainly threatening to do so. 

They weren’t tinted yellow anymore, they just looked… dirtier. A brighter version of those damn gloves. 

* * *

Sometimes, he loathed being the strongest side. It made him responsible for carrying a personified heap of trash while sinking out, and it made it impossible to rise up into the mindscape gracefully. Everything may be in shambles, but he didn’t want his presentation to be as ruined as everything else! 

Though, the inconvenience that was his brother left his mind as Patton and Virgil were seen talking, coming out of the emo’s room. They both looked sulky, meaning nothing good could’ve happened between them (he was trying to ignore how Virgil was distancing himself from the moral side, but he did trail pretty far behind him). They caught their attention once Patton was in the hallway, and Virgil stood in his doorway. 

Logan led the serpentine side to their armchair. He dumped his twin onto their couch, because there was no way he would carry the gremlin with him all night (nor was he about to wake him up just to get him to leave, a quiet Remus that  _ doesn’t _ want to attack him and his friends is a good Remus). Patton softly waved towards him once he faced the hallway again, but Virgil’s face was stuck in a permanent glare. 

“So…” he began, once a moment of tense quiet passed, “what’s up with you two?” 

“The memory archive is fucked.” 

Patton looked ready to scold him, but thought better of it, instead just tugging on his hoodie sleeves. Virgil continued when no one responded, but looked down, avoiding eye contact, “you two can check in your own rooms, but something happened to the hybrid’s. It’s…” Virgil’s voice began to sound distorted, though thankfully not as badly as before. He held his head limply on his fingertips, “they’re— they’re a lot less yellow, and they’re so fucking close to the center, and—”

“Virgil,” Logan began, treading towards the anxious side, who allowed the nerd to guide his wrists towards Virgil’s sides, “you should get some rest, alright? It’s 4:12 in the morning, and while Thomas does not have anything planned for tomorrow, we all need to get some sleep. Roman and I will check the archive, and then get some rest ourselves.” He glanced at Patton while he spoke, making sure that his words were known to be directed at him too. It worked, thankfully, as the distressed duo left for their own rooms, a soft “goodnight” following Patton’s closed door. 

Logan turned towards him, and while he tried to look collected, Roman saw a hint of worry behind his glasses. He wasn’t completely up for much after such a wild night, making Roman feel a pang of guilt for yelling at him. 

“Take your own advice, megamind,” he started, making Logan raise a brow, “we’ll figure out what to do tomorrow, but we deserve to rest. We went through a panic attack  _ and  _ Remus all in one night! That’s a lot for  _ anyone,  _ even for princes!”

Logan gave a half-hearted chuckle, so Roman counted that as a win. “I cannot tell if you are just too lazy to go to the archive, or if you remembered some of my points from our motivation debate.” 

He made his signature offended Princey noises, softly slamming a hand over his heart, getting an amused smirk out of Logan, “how  _ dare _ you accuse me of being lazy?? I am as energized as ever, thank you very much!” He dramatically crossed his arms and pouted towards a wall, grateful for the chuckle it brought out of the nerd.

“Regardless, you do have a point.” He said, surprising Roman (only a little bit, of course). He wasn’t going to argue with the Prince? He made a point that was valid to Logan? He did something right?? 

Logan continued, “We should be prepared for whatever tomorrow figuratively throws at us, so I hope you rest well, prep.” 

With that, the logical side left for his room, leaving Roman alone with the glee of having done something right, without someone else’s input telling him he’s wrong. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What’s this?? Ending a chapter on a nice part instead of something ominous??? What has happened in the world
> 
> Anyways since I didn’t do it last time (sorry!!) I’ll try to upload another chapter later tonight because y’all deserve content that I haven’t made fhjsndlakd sorry—
> 
> alsoletsgiveromanvalidation2020pleasehestryinghisbest
> 
> And y’all know the drill but come talk to me @magic-but-its-green on tumblr if you wanna  
> I want fander friends basically—
> 
> Edit : I FORGOT THE CHAPTER TITLE DJDJOSKALA


	28. “Focus On Issues or Focus On Me”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long but school has been kicking my butt (and I’ve just been really moody lately and idk why)
> 
> TW FOR : lots of food talk, dry-heaving mention, corpse mention, torture chamber mention (with a very brief description but there are no actual torture chambers), death mention, sexual nicknames, brief butthole mention because Remus exists, deer-car-accident mention, brief blood and guts mention (almost all of those are because of Remus), trouble breathing, mention of repressing emotions, and bad egg puns

Normally, Logan could wake up at 6:30 AM with no trouble. He maintained a fairly consistent sleep schedule, he took the proper steps to assure that he would be fully rested, such as no electronics half an hour before bed, keeping a good posture while lying down, changing into his comfortable onesie, so on so forth. 

However, he clearly could not do _anything_ he normally did at 4:15 AM, already completely exhausted and confused. He ended up falling into his bed, finally sleeping two minutes and forty-two seconds afterwards. 

Naturally, alarm clocks do not care if Logan is drained, for the inanimate object will beep away regardless, nor is it sentient enough to care. He knew that, it was only logical, but he finally understood Virgil’s frustration with waking up. He just wished that frustration didn’t result in his alarm shattering under his fist, as he fell asleep yet again. 

About fifty-one minutes and six seconds later, Patton arrived to wake him up (did _he_ get any sleep? Patton normally slept in for a while, Logan was typically the first to wake up), as he gently shook the teacher’s shoulder.

Eight minutes and seven seconds later, he walked out of his room in a new polo, jeans, and tie, heading for the kitchen. The only reason why he paused was for the forgotten company of the dark sides, with a very unconscious Remus and a very still snake. The liar made no movement, just as he did hours ago, but he still seemed quite transfixed on that mirror. It made Logan wonder if he had even _tried_ to sleep, but the tiredness in heterochromic eyes suggested otherwise.

Before he could ponder on it any longer, a sharp inhale took over the silent room. He swiveled towards the couch, eyes landing on trembling royalty. The Duke, eyes still shut, was suddenly terrified in his sleep, his breathing much more erratic than it had been moments earlier. 

In the blink of an eye, a blur of red settled beside Remus, lightly pushing the unconscious Duke to sit up. Remus hardly resisted. If it weren’t for the pink mirror tucked into his belt, Logan would’ve been confused by “Roman’s” sudden presence. 

“Remus,” mumbled Deceit or Denial, as he rubbed circles onto the Duke’s back. Logan wasn’t quite sure how speaking so quietly to Remus would help, especially with how loud his ragged breathing already was, but the serpentine side didn’t waver. He merely held the still-sleeping-Duke upright, speaking in a hushed tone that Logan couldn’t believe was coming from Roman’s voice, much less the snake himself. 

He attempted to walk towards the duo, his hands raised awkwardly in an attempt to offer assistance, but “Roman” merely looked at him and shook his head. He lowered his hands and nodded, not quite sure what to do. Logan would appreciate having a moment where he _did_ know how to help, as he was supposed to be the side with that kind of knowledge. He hated being a background presence when he could be helping, if given the chance. 

Being obsolete in that moment, as he usually was, he left for the kitchen. Patton was trying to make breakfast, but cracking an egg over the countertop probably was not the correct way to do so. 

“Patton?” he called out, as the fatherly side flinched and dropped the egg shell he had. He turned his head to look at Logan, who noted the way Patton’s eyelids drooped shortly after. He seemed to relax a bit at seeing him, or maybe that was the blatant exhaustion coming down on him. Patton started moving his hands as if he were cooking, though he did not seem to realize that his egg wasn’t in a pan, nor the fact that he was not using a spatula to flip said egg, but Logan decided not to comment on that yet.

“Oh, morning Logan!” He said, the chipperness a little too forced in his voice. He wiped his egg-stained hands onto his pants once or twice, covering the khaki in food. Did he not realize how unsanitary that was? “How are you teach?”

He looked Patton up-and-down, from how his shirt was inside-out, to how loose the hoodie was tied around him, the lack of shoes that Patton normally insisted should always be worn, the crookedness of his glasses. He regretted not noticing when he was being awoken, but he was determined to not be so negligent now.

“I feel— not literally, of course— as though I should be asking _you_ that question. Did you sleep at all?”

Patton blinked in surprise at him. “Me? I’m— I’m fine!” 

He rose a brow at the moral side, who deflated at being caught.

“...I just couldn’t sleep,” he mumbled, so quiet that Logan had to lean slightly just to hear him, “I— I have so many icky feelings about all of this, and I feel so bad for lying to Virgil— to all of you, really. I wish that I could just— just _fix it,_ y’know?” He had started tugging and fidgeting with his hoodie sleeves, and Logan internally cringed for all of the egg stains now littered on Patton. 

He nodded once in response to Patton’s question. The father-wannabe just sighed, hands falling to his sides. “Sorry, we should be focusing on Dec— err, Denial, for now.”

“Patton, that would be repressing your feelings again. We have talked about this.”

The moral side didn’t respond. The only thing providing any noise was the sudden exclaim of a signature Remus-made nickname, making him sigh and Patton cringe. 

“Besides,” he continued, ignoring the uncomfortably similar mimicry of the twins’ usual banter, “if you do not care for yourself a little, you will only make it harder for you to help others. You already proved this by scrambling egg yolk all over yourself.” 

Patton looked down briefly, finally noticing the mess he made, before chuckling softly. “ _Scrambling?_ For someone who hates puns so much, you sure know how to _fry_ them up!” He grinned, as Logan groaned in frustration. He must stop with these accidental puns, they are more bothersome than helpful. 

“You are ignoring my point,” he stated, making whatever temporary joy Patton had escape him, “we can have this conversation later if it would make you more comfortable, but we should talk about it soon.”

With a defeated mumble of “I know,” Patton snapped his fingers to extract himself of the messy eggs. He looked towards the two dark sides, fumbling with his sleeves yet again. “Should they… go back to their side of the mindscape?”

“I would assume so, since that is where the dark sides typically reside,” he said, though he could not help but wonder if that was the best course of action. What would happen to Deceit/Denial if he were to be alone with the dark sides? He still knew nothing about the orange side, and Remus is notorious for being crude and violent towards everyone. If this Denial persona truly was not a facade (which he was starting to believe), then the snake truly needed help, and he likely would not be able to obtain that from the other dark sides. Sure, Remus seemed to care about him an awful lot, but merely caring for someone does not guarantee being good for them. For all Logan knew, the liar could become _worse,_ regardless if those two were giving him their undying love and assistance. 

Patton bit his lip, seemingly pondering as well. “That’s if everything was normal though, and really, it isn’t.”

He tilted his head quizzically, though he had a feeling that the answer was obvious, “What are you suggesting?”

* * *

He woke up to calloused hands running through his hair. Was he back in Deceit’s room? Did he dry-heave again?? He hoped so, the inspiration that would give him would be fun to work with!! Maybe he can look up whatever caused it later, use that as a plot device, or—

Opening his eyes, he was alarmed to see such bright decor, more specifically from the light side’s commons. His head was still in someone’s lap (unless he _wasn’t_ feeling legs underneath him), and he could hear faint murmuring from the kitchen. He whizzed around once a tangle caught a finger in his hair, making some of said tangle get ripped out of his skull, as he was face-to-face with an alarmed Roman. 

“Kris-turn-off?” Roman made a disgruntled face at the nickname, but neglected the aggressive tone that Remus _definitely_ gave. With a growing sense of dread, the Duke remembered the events from that night. How Deceit became some type of corpse, how Thomas forgot him, how he was so rudely stopped from knocking some sense into Thomas. 

His dread was replaced with a sizzling, bubbling rage, meant to mask his underlying worry, “where the hell is— what are you— wh—”

“Calm down, Edgar Allen Hoe.” He hated how casually Roman spoke, as if everything that night _hadn’t_ happened! Unless it hadn’t, and everything had been one large delusion or nightmare, but even Remus had limits to whatever morbid tale he’d create. There’s a fine line between changing your friend and slaying your own creations, after all. Changing friends is kinda toxic, but murder is just a little messy! 

He missed most of what Roman had proceeded to say, regretfully, but he merely continued to glare at his twin. Roman didn’t let up, he merely stared him down with a less menacing gaze, one that looked a tad _too_ analytical for the Prince. “...you completely ignored me, huh?” 

His glare only increased, if it could, “so what if I did??”

“Then you’re a dumbass.”

“Better than being a Prince.”

If he wasn’t so worried about Deceit, he might’ve seen the Offended Princey Noises™ as a victory. Instead, he just shook his head at his stupid, careless brother, whose head was so empty he could make a torture chamber out of it, maybe even add a guillotine if he wanted, with shiny tools lining the walls and—

He shook his head harder to clear his thoughts. Now was _not_ the time to be letting ideas flow out of a juicy butthole (haha, ass). “Just repeat whatever it was you said, Hercu-sleeze.”

Roman muttered something about “not being a sleeze” (because _that’s believable_ ), before doing as asked, “as I was _saying,_ you got knocked out by Ms. Apprisal, Thomas met his Denial not long after, and something’s happened in the memory archive? Logan could probably explain it, but—” 

“Y’know, you’re being awfully calm about this.” 

Remus didn’t hear the words leave his mouth, but they were enough to shut Roman up. He was fuming, partially because of Roman’s nonchalant attitude, but really, that whole night pissed him off. 

The Prince just stared at him, confusion written all over his dumb face, and Remus was ready to insult it before hearing, “is that not how he would act?” 

That was… unexpected. “Who?”

“Roman.” 

Gone was the flamboyance of his brother, replaced by a monotone voice that was too deep to belong to a “light side,” meaning…

“Deceit?” The other flinched away as Remus zoomed directly in front of him, “Deceit!! Why are you in disguise?? It’s just us! You can turn back now!!” He knew he must’ve sounded frantic, like a baby deer who just watched their mom get mutilated by a car, but Deceit was safe!! He didn’t know what to think when waking up in the fleshlight’s commons, of all places, but he was safe!

He saw the very-Roman-like eyes stare at him for a moment, before he pulled that stupid mirror out from behind him, where it was presumably tucked into his belt (he could think of _different_ places it could’ve been in, but the author is fifteen and doesn’t want to change her rating to mature even though Remus exists, so he didn’t voice his thoughts), before he tapped the glass and shifted back into himself… or, as much of himself was still in those gloves. 

Deceit didn’t bother looking at him after that, instead he just sat up and looked into the glass, and that… stung, just a bit. He could admit, thinking that Deceit would be normal after that night was definitely a little naive of him. He’s used to being ignored, he could hardly get Orange or Roman to listen to him, less so anyone else, but Deceit at least tolerated him for awhile! He didn’t dismiss him so quickly, or prioritze some dumb mirror over anything else! He’d be more understanding if it was Edward and Henry, because at least they have blood and guts!

“Hey, Immanuel Cunt, stop being vain for two seconds,” he said, reaching for the mirror. Before his hand could get close enough to touch it, however, he heard someone call his and another name.

“Good morning Remus, Denial.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ms. Apprisal was supposed to be like Ms. Frizzle but it didn’t quite work out oops
> 
> Tbh I’m not very happy with this chapter but it’s starting to get back on track for how the plot is supposed to go so there’s that at least
> 
> The Patton always wearing shoes thing is just me projecting my dad onto him because he won’t ever take off his shoes unless he’s going to shower or sleep (for the night, if he’s taking a nap he still won’t take them off and even though I’ve known him my whole life I still don’t know how he does that) 
> 
> Anyways!! Next chapter is gonna have Forget in it!! And it’ll be later today because I promised y’all a double upload so I will deliver (DiGiorno) 
> 
> andisaythistoomuchbutifyouhaventthenfollowmeontumblr@magic-but-its-green


	29. “May the Odds Be Never In Our Favor”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sleepy
> 
> TW for : a mention of the zodiac killer, death mention, murder mention (specifically with knives), “daddy” used as a crude nickname once (idk if that’s a trigger but just in case), bleeding mention, suffocation mention, sex mention, shitty headaches, dislocating a shoulder mention, and the start of a physical fight

For the love of the zodiac killer Remus was  _ not _ in the mood for “light” sides. If he wasn’t so determined to get his snake back, he would’ve dignified them with a response. Sure, he didn’t understand the “Denial” talk, but he could give less of a shit about it. Right now, he needed to—

Deceit’s head lifted up at Logan’s greeting, before going back towards the mirror moments later. Remus was, to put it simply,  _ baffled.  _ Logan, the side who’s always been able to (eventually) see through Deceit’s bullshit, the one who’s figured out a way to counter any side (no doubt orange too, even if they’ve never met properly), the literal grim reaper if he wanted to be— oh a murderous Logan would make for a good nightmare, maybe he should— nope  _ nope nope it’s focusing time no creativity now nope nope nope—  _ his point was, why is  _ Logan  _ being acknowledged more than he is? Is this Deceit’s way of joining the light sides?? Are they all playing some cruel trick on him?? We’re they just organizing some plan to get Remus to fuck off so that they could take Deceit away and once he’s gone he’ll be acting normal only this time he’s with the other sides and now  _ he and orange will be all alone and— _

__ He felt himself get pulled away from Deceit— when were there nail indents in his caplet—? but Deceit made no movement. Logan nudged him to the other side of the couch, but Remus didn’t register it completely while he was lost in thought. He felt like a knife in a murder scene— he was aware of what was happening, since he was involved, but it wasn’t exactly at the forefront of his mind. 

“Uh— kiddo..?” Mumbled Patton, and he turned his head fast enough for a  _ crack  _ to reverberate across the room. He saw the fatherly figment grimace from behind him, making him grin.  _ Good,  _ if they’re scared then they’ll explain this bullshit. 

“Yes, daddy?” He drawled, a perfect blending tone of suggestive and creepy in his voice (perfect in his opinion, anyways, orange was just a harsh critic). It certainly made Patton recoil, but he didn’t leave. 

He turned his head again— quickly snapping his fingers to fix his neck— towards Deceit, where the thot machine stood nearby. He probably pulled Remus away, because of course his boring ass would— did Logan have a boring ass? He hasn’t really compared everyone’s asses yet, though they’re all the same, so—  _ goddammit FOCUS— _

__ Remus didn’t realize how deeply his nails were in his palms until the slight sting of skin breaking cut through his thoughts. Maybe if he bled over their couch enough, they’d leave him and Deceit alone.

“So, what else are you two gonna do? Am I gonna get my own fancy mirror that drains me away? Are you turning him into a precious ‘light side?’ Are we going to be slowly killed and molded into what Thomas would deem as ‘good?’ I’m just...  _ trembling, _ ” he paused, growling out his last words, a very maniacal smile plastered on him, “ _ with anticipation!”  _

__ Patton whimpered at his words, but Logan remained resolute with one slow breath. If that was all it took for him to calm down, maybe Remus should follow Virgil’s threat of prohibiting his breathing! They didn’t  _ deserve  _ to relax, especially since they wanted Deceit to commit the sins they reprimanded. 

“If you want Deceit to return to his normal self,” Logan began, “I would suggest that you cooperate with us.” He readjusted his tie and tilted his glasses, as nerdy bastards like him do. 

Remus could only gawk at him, the know-it-all attitude pissing him off. How could he even  _ think  _ that Remus didn’t care?? Sure, he acted like a nuisance most of the time, but he clearly cared more than they did! If they wanted to refute his point, then they’d have to explain their use of Deceit as their personal shape-shifter. If they cared, they wouldn’t have burned him out in the first place. 

But, of course, they didn’t, and since they’re  _ always right,  _ Remus was the one they projected their apathetic actions onto. 

“So _I’m_ the one who needs to cooperate?” He stood up, and Patton stepped back, “I’m not the one who _caused this!_ I found him like _this_ , I tried to bring him back from whatever _corruption_ you enforced onto him, _I_ _actually tried to bring him back.”_ He started chuckling, but it was void of any mirth, “I actually gave a shit about him!! But _you?_ All you did was _—_ whatever _this_ is!!” he gestured vaguely towards Deceit, and he thrived in the guilty looks on their faces. Maybe it’ll get through their thick skulls that Remus was _not_ the one who needed to “cooperate.”

There was a beat of silence before Logan responded. “I was not trying to imply that you were responsible for Denial,” he stated, “we merely think that working together on this would help bring Deceit back.” 

“Oh  _ please,  _ Professor Utoni-bum,” he drawled, rolling his eyes for emphasis, “I’m not about to work with the people who caused this. That’s like trying to end sex with the horniest people alive!”

He saw Logan take another deep breath to calm himself, Patton fidgeting in the background. He’d enjoy the tension he was creating more if he wasn’t so pissed with them. 

“If you would allow me to  _ finish, _ ” began Logan, “we were suggesting that you two would stay here, so that all of us could monitor Deceit. Your orange companion could also join, if he wishes, but this seems to be the best course of action.” 

* * *

Returning back to the subconscious, he’d like to lie to himself and say that he arrived with dramatic effects, pink and grey swirling around him, as he descended into a large lair where he could indulge in his goal successfully. 

Reality decided that his wants were dumb, for it had him faceplant right into the floor, a headache still throbbing in his skull.

He groaned in frustration, grabbing his headband and ripping it off of his head. It did help soothe his mind somewhat, but the echo of pain surrounding him wasn’t erased. 

Honestly, he deserved a reward for the effort he was making. 

Forget reluctantly sat up, massaging his temples with his eyes shut. If it weren’t so crucial for him, he would’ve left Dante with more memories, just to spare himself some pain. 

As the pain softened to a buzzing tingle in the back of his mind, he looked ahead of him, where the headband laid. A golden ring had formed around its center, emitting a faint glow that otherwise wouldn’t be there. Huh, he hadn’t realized how influential color would’ve been, but maybe he shouldn't be so surprised. 

He held the headband in his hands, feeling the pain start to come back into his mind. Quickly, without much thought, he summoned the memories to flow out of, but not to disconnect from the headwear. Golden wisps spilled out and spread like a web, barely holding on to the pink fabric as it did so. He grinned as the headgear dropped to the floor, the memories not quite falling but still clutching onto the headband as it fell. 

Forget needed to begin his work, since he’s barely made a dent in step one. 

* * *

Who the fuck was trying to dislocate his shoulder? He wanted to sleep and forget everyone, not have Patton frantically grabbing his _ —  _ wait, why was _ — _

__ He sat up to look Patton in the eyes, and despite how much contempt he held for him, he knew something had to be wrong for so much fear to fill those (somewhat) caring eyes. 

“Virgil _ —  _ oh thank goodness you’re awake _ —  _ Remus is on a rampage!!” 

He didn’t know if there was more to it than that, he just jumped out of his room (thank god his hodie was already on), and sprinted out the door. From the hallway, he could see a Morningstar barely miss Logan’s head, and  _ why on MCR’s good name were they by the border—? _

__ Ignoring Patton’s worry from behind him, he sprinted and lunged at the Duke, effectively knocking them both over. A flash of green was his only warning before a fist flung towards his stomach. He kicked the Duke away from him, satisfied briefly for the grunt it took out of Remus. A Morningstar integrated in Remus' hand, quickly being thrown at his head, successfully scraping his arm. If Remus really thought this fight was worth it, then he wouldn’t hesitate to _ — _

__ “ _ ENOUGH!! _ ”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fact that y’all continue to call Forget a bastard is honestly the highlight of this fic and I want y’all to know how much I love that lmao
> 
> It’s like 3am where I live so if there’s mistakes or just shitty writing I’m sorry 
> 
> But!! The double upload has happened!!! Finally!!!!


	30. “Repression Can Be... Very Bad Indeed”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy this chapter is edgy— TW for implied death (no one important, so the sides are safe), death mentions, some gore from an intrusive thought, suffocation mention, brief sex mention, Remus snaps, Virgil gets knocked out, Patton gets cornered, denial is kinda vibing, roman’s sleeping still (somehow), Thomas makes some coffee, Logan is scared

He needed to diffuse the situation. Remus had been, previously, scolding them, but he had not  _ attacked _ until Logan calmly mentioned that it was for the best. It, of course, was the dark sides being monitored. He could not exactly trust either of them, with Deceit rejecting his entire self, and Remus being... well, Remus.

That being said, he had not expected the Duke to lose his  _ mind _ over such a proposition. 

One minute, he was staring them down, sitting on the couch across from Deceit/Denial. The next, he was wielding his Morningstar onto them. Unfortunately, Logan had been the closest side in proximity to the Duke, apart from the serpentine side. 

Logan could hear running in the background, though it was not at the forefront of his mind when a spike-covered weapon was _aimed at his_ _face._ He side-stepped out of the way, wincing at the _thud_ sound on the floor. A crack followed shortly after. Glowing, acidic eyes bore into him, head tilted at an unnatural angle. Maniacal, sharpened teeth beamed at him, after a brief moment of… apprehension?

“ _ Run.” _

* * *

Patton had never ran so quickly in his life. 

Though, he supposed, maybe demented sides who try to abrubtly kill everyone are a good reason to run fast! He wasn’t exactly in the loop when it came to handling Remus, and while they were all immune to being killed, that didn’t mean it wasn’t alarming!!

He bursted into his kidd— uhh, Virgil’s room, instantly at the emo’s side and shaking him awake. He wasn’t paying attention to whatever left his mouth, but it seemed to be enough to get Virgil running for the living room. He would know what to do, right? Virgil used to  _ live  _ with Remus, so he might—  _ oh goodness _ —

The emo had  _ lunged  _ at the Duke, sending both of them tumbling to the floor. Remus punched Virgil in the stomach, before being kicked away. He only watched in silence, because  _ this couldn’t be happening he hadn’t meant to get Virgil hurt no nonono _ —

“ _ ENOUGH!! _ “ 

Virgil turned towards Logan in surprise, and the Duke took advantage of that. Remus hesitated for a moment, and briefly, Patton could see fear in the Duke’s eyes. It was only for a split-second, and it was almost enough to make Patton try to stop the Duke verbally, even if he couldn’t find his voice with the terror suffocating him. 

Then a Morningstar swung onto Virgil’s head, knocking the emo out. 

Patton couldn’t hold in the short shout that left him. His friend— or at least fellow side— just got knocked out!! It felt like Remus’ introduction all over again, only Logan was just as panicked. Remus immediately turned towards him and Logan. Something was so, so clearly wrong. Besides the obvious of a newly unconscious Virgil on the floor, Remus had an unnatural gleam in his eyes, an eerily apathetic ring in his slow, gradual cackle, stalking towards them like animal. 

“You two...” growled the Duke, clutching his weapon so tightly he could’ve snapped the metal in half, “I....”

Patton’s never bolted away so quickly.

This time, unluckily, the Duke aimed for  _ him  _ instead. Logan was safe, but now Patton had an insane Duke on his heels. His own footsteps frantically hit the carpet. The Duke’s boots thudded right behind him, like a staccato. 

He shouldn’t have ran past his own door.

The end of the hallway was right in front of him.

...he didn’t want to turn around. 

* * *

Thomas woke up that morning drowsy, feeling oddly on edge. He slept uneasily throughout the night, with his last thoughts revolving around his newest side. 

He knew he had more sides, of course. He remembered Roman’s foreboding “dark sides” nickname. Wasn’t that after a dilemma? Something about a stage… maybe…

Ah well, he didn’t want to ponder on it. Admittedly, he wanted to avoid thinking of his newest side, deny the fact that Denial existed. Remus was an easier concept to understand, somewhat. His intrusive thoughts, both sexual and morbid, made sense that he was a dark side. But denial? Wasn’t that just a part of repression? And wasn’t repression a patented Patton problem? Did  _ Patton  _ have a secret twin too??

His coffee machine began to pour its steamy beverage into the pot. The rich aroma of caffeine filled his kitchen. It didn’t distract Thomas from his questions, but it did help him focus on something else. He sighed, a bit conflicted on what to do now. Maybe he could check on his sides? At least the main four— they always seemed distressed after a dark side incident. Though should it be all at once, or individually? Patton might like the extra reassurance, but Logan may want to talk alone. Roman would  _ definitely  _ rather be alone, he—

The image flashed into his mind. The screaming resonated in the background. Three mangle corpses, disfigured beyond belief, lay before his feet. He wouldn’t stop swinging at them, and bloody, crushed organs were strewn all over the ground, darkened by the mess. The swinging wouldn’t stop, he just kept  _ hitting  _ and _ slamming his weapon into the corpses but they’re already dead they’re already _ —

Thomas stumbled back with the gasp. He bumped into his counter, the edge digging into his side. He blinked a few times, vainly trying to understand what in the  _ world _ had just formed in his mind. Looking downwards, he was thankful that the only sight was his kitchen floor, and not…  _ whatever _ he just imagined. 

...gosh, what kind of intrusive thought was  _ that??  _

* * *

An urge. It made sense, Remus was holding back. If let loose in the imagination, it would go away. 

The others didn’t know that? Roman does the same, less violently. Why are they shocked? This happens sometimes. Oh, Virgil arrived. He should know. He’ll send Remus to the imagination.

Nope, he’s knocked out. Why aren’t they taking Remus away? He can’t get better without the imagination. He will, albeit unwillingly, hurt them. 

Glowing red on the mirror glass. Roman, he could send Remus to the imagination. 

Denial tapped on the glass’ shield. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so first off, I’m sorry for disappearing for literally a month. Y’all don’t deserve that, I’m just awful with being motivated to do anything apparently.
> 
> I’m gonna /try/ to set a weekly schedule at least? But I honestly can’t make any promises since life gets whacky with personal stuff and 2020 madness so trying is kinda the best my lazy ass can say. 
> 
> But!! As an attempt to make it up to y’all, I’ve been working on a playlist for Forget! I’m worried that I’ll basically spoil his entire character but we’ll see. 
> 
> Also about this chapter : remember the urges subplot that lasted for like a few chapters and was resolved because Deceit was fixing literally everyone’s issues but now he’s denial and can’t do that as well as he once could? Yeah :::)))
> 
> Anyways, I hope all of you are staying safe from covid since it still exists, do whatever you must to stay protected during protests if you’re partaking, sign petitions if you can’t donate, and also have the best pride that you can during the mess that is 2020.


	31. “You Need Not Feign Decency!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY FUCKING SHIT THIS IS LATE SNDHJSJDJ IM SORRY— u h TW for lots of blood, organ, death, corpse, sex mentions, lots of Remus angst, kidnapping mention, o.j. Simpson mention (but it’s just another Dukey nickname for orange), Shane Dawson mention, piss mention, drug mention, Remus thinks badly about Roman, Logan and Patton talk badly about Remus, Patton still has egg stains all over him but nobody’s mentioned it, Virgil ain’t dead he’s just unconscious, yeah

Patton had slid to the floor at some point— whether it was when Remus had him cornered, or after he had been dragged away, he didn’t know. And, quite frankly, he didn’t care. He was just glad that the Duke was  _ gone.  _

__ Logan had walked over to him not long after, and honestly, the teacher looked worn down. His whole appearance was disheveled, his glasses even a bit skewed, and he looked a bit out of breath. But he crouched down in front of Patton, looking over the moral side for any fatal wounds, exhaling in relief when there were none.

“Well,” Patton spoke, after a moment of tired silence passed, “I guess Remus was this  _ morning’s star. _ ”

“...you just got aggressively chased by Remus, and your first reaction to such an experience is to start making  _ puns? _ ”

Patton shrugged at his words, “I don’t wanna take it too seriously.” And he really didn’t. He just wanted to take a nap, perhaps. Curl up in his room and binge a show all day, chomping on cookies without a care in the world. He didn’t want to dwell on Remus,  _ especially  _ not after  _ that.  _

__ Logan shook his head, “falsehood. You simply wish to figuratively bottle up the negative emotions you are feeling from that, and while normally I would try to help you through it, we have larger problems to handle.” Oh, he didn’t think Logan would’ve figured him out so quickly. He knew that repression wasn’t great, but never confronting those feelings always felt… easier. Patton just gave him a sheepish look, not sure of what else to say. 

Logan rubbed the bridge of his nose, standing up and holding a hand out to Patton. He gladly took the other’s help, before they both walked over to the commons.

The room was… a mess. Furniture had chipped off pieces from where Remus missed Logan (the couch even had tears in the material). There was a huge dent in the wall, and the carpet had subtle marks of footprints in it, showing how hostile the Duke had truly been. Some famILY pictures had fallen to the floor. 

And, the most obvious problem, was Virgil on the ground, unconscious. 

He and Logan helped move the emo onto the couch, though that took longer than they’d like (Logan was right, Thomas  _ really  _ needed to go to the gym more). Though Logan’s brows furrowed at the sight, looking over the couch curiously. 

Patton would’ve asked if the teacher was ok, but Logan spoke up, “where is Deceit?”

He blinked owlishly at the question, briefly glancing around the room. “Well, he can’t be within the dark sides’ half. Maybe he went to the kitchen?” He offered weakly, a pang of worry going through him.

Logan shook his head, “unlikely. He has already proven that he will not move unless he is in disguise or if Thomas calls for him directly. We—”

The _squelch_ of flesh being beaten took over his hearing and vision, corpses far beyond recognition under him. Indigo, blue, and violet blended in with the blood as the metallic weapon smashed into each body repeatedly. Their organs were scattered across the grass, and the scent of death was  _ everywhere  _ and he couldn’t handle it  _ it needed to stop please stop they’re dead they’re already gone— _

__ He flinched as the thought popped into his head, but Logan looked unfazed. If anything, he seemed irritated. “Wonderful. Remus is in the imagination, where he can disturb Thomas for as long as he would like.”

That… couldn’t be good. Thomas already felt disgruntled from Deceit’s new title alone. If Remus was just going to make morbid thought after thought, freely causing havoc in the imagination… 

Well, he’d rather not think of gore and intercourse all day. 

“Should we get Roman? He could stop him, or maybe calm him down.” 

* * *

The tangy taste of copper bombarded his nose, once he came back to his senses. When had he fallen onto his knees? It made his legs all damp, like someone who’s  _ really _ into—

Oh. That would explain it. Vaguely humanoid, though now just bloody piles of meat and bones, were mangled corpses colored after his least favorite sides. He could barely remember what he had done. Remus was fairly certain that these three were ruined by a Dukey version of whack-a-mole, but the rest before that was fuzzy. 

Honestly, he just wanted to know what had ticked him  _ off.  _ He’d already dealt with an urge towards Thomas, so he assumed he’d be fine! Sure, Logan had stopped his impulse in its tracks (with a, begrudgingly, impressive hit), but it had still tried to happen!! 

Though, maybe his own repression had caused this. He didn’t want to cock-block Deceit’s problems, but stress only helped  _ encourage _ an impulse to occur, and seeing your long-time friend-without-benefits acting like...  _ that,  _ wasn’t exactly stress-relieving. 

Now, however, he just felt numb. The blood soaking his pants didn’t faze him. The mangled, immobile bodies under and around him did nothing. He wasn’t inspired, or fascinated, not even a little proud of the light maiming. He was just... tired.

Tired of the “light” sides, acting as though they’re the best. Tired of Deceit, who completely changed overnight, and for  _ no fucking reason _ . Tired of Thomas, for ever needing a perfect creativity, or a constricting morality, a ridiculing logic, a traitorous anxiety.

But, mostly, he was just tired of himself. 

He heard footsteps on the grass— since when was the floor grass?— making him whip around to look at them. His neck made a loud  _ crack _ pierce the air, as his vision focused on the bane of his existence (and, coincidentally, the other half of it). The Prince sat down on the floor, as close as he could be without getting blood on his pretentious outfit. 

The silence between them was haunting, and Remus couldn’t stand it. He didn’t want to decipher the look in Roman’s stare, so he looked away, snapping his fingers to heal his broken neck. “Well, I hope you enjoyed the show!” He cackled out, emptily. The Duke wasn’t ashamed of what he did, not really. Maybe ashamed in how  _ generic _ it was, but not because he did it. He just didn’t want to give Roman another reason to be better than him. To loathe him, to be downright  _ embarrassed  _ to share a function. 

Then again, it’s not like  _ Roman’s _ impulses gave Thomas “unwanted thoughts,” or anything so repulsive. They were never problematic enough to be noticed by the other “perfect” sides. Roman’s creativity wasn’t… bloody, kinky, gorey, disturbing, uncomfortable, inappropriate,  _ evil— evil and wrong and— _

“Remus... what  _ was _ that?”

Roman’s voice dragged him out of his thoughts like a kidnapper, resilient, as Remus didn’t want to leave. Why even bother with confronting the problem? What would that accomplish? The “light” sides already hated him before this, and Roman didn’t truly care. He just had to be the  _ hero,  _ the  _ good guy  _ at every moment. 

He laid back onto the bloody grass, staring upwards at the illusion of a gloomy day. Were they in the imagination? That would explain the grass, at least, as well as the nameless trio of bodies surrounding him.“Didn’t Deceit tell you? I have impulses, urges, whatever you wanna call them. You do too, they just...” don’t lead to a homicidal lust. For the love of dicks he  _ had  _ been getting better, honestly!! He and Deceit had tried so,  _ so _ hard to help him manage them, as it had worked!! They had been turning into occasional random words he’d blurt out, or something horrid that he  _ had  _ to make, and they wouldn’t always lead to Thomas having intrusive thoughts!! And now, all that effort had disappeared, because Deceit had just— become something he  _ wasn’t.  _

Remus chuckled, but it sounded far too empty in his ears. As empty as those corpses, at least. He could see an  _ appendix  _ six feet away! What was his record, a brain a mile away?  _ That  _ was an interesting moment, he should try to recreate that someday and—

“Just what, Remus?”

He scrunched his nose at the fake pity. God, Roman can’t play his stupid role  _ genuinely  _ around him. Sure, Remus wasn’t about to pretend that he was some sweetheart— like a whole heart drizzled with sugar, and chocolate, and icing, the blood vessels clogged with starbursts. But at least he wasn’t like his stupid brother, pretending to be this great  _ star,  _ when he’s really just overrated. 

“They just aren’t _intrusive!_ They don’t have to be repressed, or managed, or— or _controlled—_ because they’re just _creative!!_ They’re _butterflies, and magic,_ not… not _fucking_ _scary._ ” Roman didn’t _have_ to be original for Thomas to love him, Roman didn’t have to be accepted, because he already _was._ Remus had to push for _years_ just to be seen, and now he needs to be _tolerated,_ like a child on a plane. 

Remus felt hands tug his own away— was that his blood on his nails? It’s not as dried out as the corpses, maybe that’s where the pinging of pain in his head came from—? Oh, a stupid face was above his. Rude, he was rather enjoying the dreariness of the sky. Though it would be better if it was raining di—

“Is… is that how you think of yourself?” Roman asked, looking at him with pity (or concern, but Remus wouldn’t go down _that_ train of thought). “Remus, you’re not—”

“Oh  _ shut up. _ ” He sneered, sitting up and looking away from the Prince. “I know you didn’t hear him, but that’s what Thomas thinks about  _ us.  _ He thinks  you’re nothing but great, wonderful, _ perfect _ . He thinks I’m unfit to be creativity, he didn’t even believe that we had the same function until  _ Logan  _ said so!! And normally, I don’t care what you all think. You ‘light’ sides already hate me, Deceit just gave up on tolerating me, and O.J. Simpson is the last one to give a shit!! And I’m ok with that!! I am!! Sure, it sucks, but that’s just how life is!! I’m not gonna dwell on it when I could be thinking of anything else!!”

He heaved in a breath, realizing how loud his voice had gotten. “But when your own… when the man you have to help bring ideas to, when he  _ hates  _ you so much that you have to be tolerated or feared…”

Did Roman even deserve to know this? Probably not, the Prince already had too much, but really, who gave a shit? It might be a good chuckle for him and the other favorited sides.

Or, it should’ve been. Which was why he was baffled to suddenly have a bunch of white and gold in his line of sight, or strong arms around him. 

It didn’t baffle him so much when that pristine outfit was dampened with tears—  _ his  _ tears— as his own, bloody arms clung to Roman. 

Remus wasn’t even sure why he was breaking down like this. Was it from despair? Frustration? Hell, maybe  _ joy _ (not that he had any reason to be happy, but he’s certainly  _ demented _ enough to have the worst timing with feelings)? Whatever it was, the sobs made him tremble and crack like an avalanche, with cars full of people under it that’ll go  _ splat  _ in moments—

He could hear the door to the imagination open, but he didn’t care so much. The “light” sides probably just wanted to check on Roman, so he didn’t care when—

_ Roman?? _

__ The Prince walked out of his golden door as it disappeared behind him, and  _ wow,  _ he looked  _ pissed!  _ Like a Shane Dawson water bottle!! He was storming over to him and— also Roman— but at least angry-Roman was in pajamas, so he could tell the two apart. 

Though angry-Roman became less-angry-and-more-confused-Roman when he saw calm-Roman, before heaving a sigh and giving the Duke a frustrated look. “Remus, let go of him. We need to talk.”

He tilted his head at that, becoming even more confused as calm-Roman pulled away. He could still feel tears running to their deaths on his face, but marginally less so. “I— what’s happening??”

Remus wished his voice didn’t crack like cocaine. Though that thought quickly left his mind, as his focus was glued to the pink mirror calm-Roman had pulled from behind him. The mirror with the elephant and clouds on the back, with the six logos on the front— 

With his old friend replacing calm-Roman’s spot. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so like the beginning note implies iM SORRY ABOUT HOW LATE THIS IS YALL DIDNT DESERVE TO WAIT SO LONG ACK— I don’t really have any reason other than massive creative block in just. Everything. 
> 
> But in some good news— Forget’s playlist is done!! I couldn’t change the playlist cover or put a description because I can’t pay for Spotify premium (or maybe the app hates me idk— and if the link doesn’t work for y’all I’m just gonna recreate it in YouTube and put the link in the comments). I might make a tumblr post about songs that were going to be on it but weren’t because there’s still a few that could’ve fit. 
> 
> But here it is https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3Sypy52lIJKd5fdDPg8Y0h?si=tlqUtKdKTLKOKd95MSpeGg
> 
> Anyways if you’re still reading this for whatever reason then your patience means the whole world to me and I’m so sorry for not giving y’all the respect you deserve sndbjshdh (and I read y’all’s comments on the last chapter and I’m just— many thanks to you guys)


End file.
